Noel
by Romanse
Summary: Blair's got a promise to keep to Jim and his vow takes him through an extraordinary journey of life and death - from modern times to a life in ancient Palestine and back.
1. Chapter 1

**Title: Noel**

**By: Romanse**

**Summary: ****Blair's got a promise to keep to Jim and his vow takes him through **

**an extraordinary journey of life and death - all the way from modern **

**times to a life in ancient Palestine and back.**

**Notes: This story is novel-length. I'd rather put that up front as many readers shy away from reading long stories. LOL - while it **_**did **_**take two years to write, it won't take that long to read! If there are long-story lovers are out there, hope you enjoy this one and let me know what you think. **

* * *

_Under the stars and shadows_

_I give to thee a gift_

_most excellent and fair._

_And yet a dim reflection of_

_the Gift once bestowed with loving care._

_Joyeux Noel_

S. Roman

For the tenth time that day since they had been propped next to the front door by their owner, Jim Ellison eyed with a mixture of resignation and amusement, the care-worn duffel bag that had long since passed its better days, and the familiar sturdy backpack that Blair Sandburg carried nearly everywhere. Jim had hardly said a word all day; there was little need to as his roommate merrily chattered away nonstop about his upcoming two-week visit with his mother, all the while darting in and out of his little room under the stairs, alternating packing with cooking and cleaning chores. Blair was on cloud nine, and Jim didn't need his Sentinel vision to see that.

Sandburg gave a quick stir to the pasta sauce he had simmering on the stove. "…and pow wows are not just an important contemporary expression of American Indian heritage, you know, Jim..." Blair's words trailed behind him in an endless flow as he abandoned the sauce to bop back into his room to get yet one more item of clothing to pack into the burgeoning bag.

Jim sniffed the air. "Sandburg," he called, still watching Blair from his vantage point on the couch.

"...the key is not letting those reports pile up..." Sandburg moved from his room into the bathroom and began clearing his hair from the shower stopper before picking up his damp towels from the floor.

"Sandburg," Jim tried again.

"... check out the sound system on the Expedition? I can't wait to break open my new Angie Ferris CD..."

"Sandburg!"

Jim's raised voice startled Blair into halting in his verbal and physical tracks. He turned wide blue eyes on his friend, all the while looking like a little boy with his hand caught in the cookie jar. "Did you want something, Jim?"

Jim smirked in amusement. "Your sauce is about to burn if you don't turn the stove off."

"Really?" Blair sniffed then as well. "Wow, I don't smell a thing, man. Thanks." He hurried to turn the stove off.

The sauce was saved, Blair's clothes were packed, and his cleaning chores completed. There was nothing left for him to do then but say his good-byes and get on the road. He grabbed his coat and hat from their hooks near the front door and began putting them on.

Sandburg turned and found that Jim was no longer sitting on the couch. The Sentinel had silently gotten up and was now standing right in front of him. Blair jumped in surprise and an awkward silence descended, as for the first time in so many hours, Blair's seemingly endless flow of words dried up. Suddenly, it occurred to the young man that he'd had enough experience saying good-bye to raise it to an art form. "Detach with love" had always been Naomi's well-lived philosophy, and one that Blair himself had been forced to adopt out of necessity.

It made no difference to Blair now that he was only leaving for two weeks, not forever. However, this 'goodbye for now' seemed harder to say than any 'goodbye forever' he'd ever said. There was a fleeting look in Jim's eyes that Blair caught a glimpse of before it disappeared, that stopped him dead in his tracks. It was the look of some dark and unexpressed emotion, and the young man was baffled, unable to decipher its meaning. Suddenly, the clue bus came to a halt in front of Blair. _He's afraid I'm leaving and not coming back. Why? _

The young anthropology grad student leaned up against the door with his hands in his jean pockets and casually inquired, "So, Jim, ah – you know I'm coming back, right, man?"

"Of course I know that, Darwin, why wouldn't you?" Jim clapped Blair on the shoulder and looked him straight in his eyes. There was no remaining trace of whatever Blair had glimpsed in Jim's eyes a moment ago. Only warmth and caring emanated from his Sentinel's eyes now. It warmed Blair's soul in a way that he had scarcely ever felt while growing up in a nomadic lifestyle that had left little room for forming long-term attachments.

Now it was his turn to play, 'hide the emotions'. Blair shrugged noncommittally, grabbed his duffel bag and slung it up and over his shoulder. Then he picked up his trusty backpack and waited expectantly, like a child awaiting instructions from a parent.

"Drive carefully, Chief," was all the sage advice the detective imparted. He smiled, but his ice-blue eyes were serious.

"I will. Take care of yourself, Jim. I'll be back on Christmas Eve." The softly made promise was received by the Sentinel, if the warmth in his eyes was anything to go by.

Then Blair turned and walked out the door and was gone.

**The Previous Week**

For the first time since Detective Jim Ellison had occupied apartment number 307 at 852 Prospect, festive signs of the holiday season adorned the interior. Even when Jim had been married briefly to Carolyn, the couple had not seen fit to decorate their dwelling. This year, the

iron railing running alongside the loft bedroom was festooned with an artificial garland made from what passed as a decent representation of fresh-cut pines. An equally artificial, but life-like Christmas tree decked out with white lights and colorful Victorian-style decorations stood in one corner of the open living room. A small Menorah had been lovingly placed on the dining room table. Ornamental objects they were, yet the decorations all served as outward signs that an extraordinary change had taken place in the inner heart of one Sentinel.

There were, of course, still those among Jim's colleagues in the Major Crime Unit who would insist first on seeing the apartment before believing that Detective Ellison had actually permitted, if not actually hung, decorations himself. But those who knew him best had no doubt that Jim's roommate, a young man whom the detective had embraced as a brother, had fundamentally changed the ex-Army Ranger, turned cop, and that such a transformation in Jim's home was entirely possible. Up until Sandburg's advent into Jim's life as a civilian police observer and unofficial partner, he'd been a man who had habitually ignored the holidays, shunned the extended hands of friendship, and been perpetually uptight and focused only on getting the job done.

The young, long-haired doctoral student was about as far from anyone's idea of what a best friend for the detective would act and look like, but anyone who spent any time with the two of them quickly realized that Sandburg walked in confidence where other mortals feared to tread. The man Ellison's associates knew now was approachable, warmer – more **human** and less like the cold hard-ass he'd been for so long.

Those years when Jim volunteered to work extra shifts because the holidays were like any other lousy day filled with crime, were over. Other officers had either wives, or husbands, and or kids, to spend the holidays with. Back then, Ellison was newly divorced and had no kids. Consequently, he saw no reason why those who had families should be unhappy at having to work on Christmas when he had no one and preferred to work alone anyway.

All that was in the past. Pigs really did fly, and the devil needed a blanket. Jim Ellison had Blair Sandburg now, his free-spirited friend, his guide and younger brother in heart. The changes wrought in Jim Ellison's life by his association with Sandburg had taken place gradually, but steadily. The big detective had at first been somewhat disconcerted to feel bits and pieces of his emotional fortress crumbling in the face of Hurricane Sandburg, but that was then, and this was now. However reluctant Jim had been to embrace some of the changes in his life, celebrating the holidays for the first time as an adult was a change he had been looking forward to – far more than the usually perceptive Sandburg even realized.

Jim's low-key attitude toward having mutually agreed with Sandburg on a plan to celebrate the holidays together, especially Christmas Eve and Day, was a finely tuned façade. Jim had carefully hidden the deep personal importance of having Blair there in their home to share in the traditions of Christmas. Jim was a man whose deeply felt, and long suppressed need to have someone in his life to care and be cared for, had been awakened by Sandburg's presence in his life. Even the shadows of his soul still remembered what it was like to share joy and love during the holidays. The holidays of long ago were times for family gatherings, giving and receiving gifts, singing, and eating one's fill of special foods. The Sentinel had once done those things – when his mother had been in the Ellison home, making it an intact family. But then Mrs. Ellison abandoned them one day and never returned or contacted her family again.

Grace Ellison's family desertion had left the father bitter and the two young Ellison brothers bereft of their mother's tenderness. The holidays were henceforth stripped of any real joy and meaning for the boy who grew into the repressed, intensely focused man that he had been for so long. Even then, every fiber in Jim's being longed to simply stop being that lonely outsider looking in. He didn't know it then, but the day Sandburg moved into the loft, Jim had taken a giant step towards that goal. Because of Sandburg, the building where Jim lived was no longer just an apartment; it was a home. Consequently, Jim looked forward to spending Christmas with his Guide with an inner intense zeal that only the similarly deprived could appreciate. On top of Christmas, Jim was also looking forward to participating in the observance of the Jewish holiday, Hanukkah, in honor of his young roommate's Jewish heritage.

The week before, it had suddenly appeared that all of the carefully laid plans he and Sandburg had made, the secret desires Jim harbored in his heart for a normal holiday experience, were about to be dashed to pieces – all because of an out-of-the-blue phone call from Blair's mother, Naomi. In an instant, Jim had become a very unhappy man. Naomi had announced that she was flying in from India for a two week visit in the States. With all her unique brand of beguiling enthusiasm, she had invited her only child to come and join her at a holiday retreat being held at the Mission Mountain Resort, in Polson, Montana, before taking off again to parts unknown, for an unknown length of time.

Blair had been torn over the idea of leaving Jim and his first real home so suddenly, but there was no real question that he would go to Montana to visit Naomi. After all, the young anthropologist had not seen Naomi in close to two years – the longest he'd ever gone without a visit. In his mind, the only problem had been how to convince Jim that he would still be there to celebrate the holidays with him, despite the fact that he would be gone for two weeks right up until Christmas Eve.

Blair realized Jim still didn't feel entirely comfortable handling his Sentinel abilities on his own, and that Jim still had not let down his walls enough to admit it to himself, much less Blair. He also knew that Jim was looking forward to the upcoming holidays; after all, they had made plans together and gone out to buy decorations for the loft. But despite Jim's apparent willingness to observe the holidays with Sandburg, he had not seen fit to share with the younger man the deeper significance of having his friend there to celebrate with him. Sandburg then had no idea of the true degree his friend was looking forward to, and the significance of, spending the holidays with him. Consequently, Jim's young guide was oblivious to the hurt feelings and irrational fears of abandonment that his decision to go had stirred up in Jim.

When Blair had excitedly broken the news to Jim, Ellison's face had maintained the smile, even as it disconnected from his eyes. A dull ache mixed with the sour wine of old, bitter memories drew down like a curtain over his soul. His ears heard "two weeks", but his heart registered "I'm bailing out on you." His reaction had been a typical reflection of old, in-grained habits. Initially, he was angry, but his pride and self-control would not permit him to reveal his wounded heart to Sandburg. Days later, Jim was very glad of that. He came to realize that his fear and anger were irrational; that Sandburg wasn't gleefully abandoning him in favor of a better offer. Sandburg had broken neither their plans, nor his word. They would still celebrate Christmas and Hanukkah together. If his unofficial partner had promised to be home by Christmas Eve, then he would be there.

Having settled the matter in his heart to his satisfaction, the Sentinel did what he did best: he moved into Blessed Protector mode and proceeded to make arrangements for his Guide to have a rented SUV, a black Ford Expedition with four wheel drive and studded tires, to take on his trip through the mountains in winter. Sandburg had at first protested; he didn't have the extra money to spend on a rental vehicle. His sporty baby blue Corvair would have to do for a trek though the mountains. Jim wouldn't hear of it though. He wore down Sandburg's defenses until they reached a compromise wherein Blair set up a timetable to pay Jim back. Once the matter of securing safe transportation for his friend had been settled, Jim, with Blair, brought out their collection of road maps and together, they devised a travel plan that would keep the younger man on the larger, four-lane interstate for as long as possible; the theory being that it would be safer for him – and Blair would be safe if Jim had anything to say about it.

**Present Day**

_In another realm, Fate watched as plans were made, bags packed, and two men, one Guide to one Sentinel, said good-bye to each other. Fate, in accordance with her capricious nature, took no notice of the holiday season of peace and goodwill towards men as she tossed the dice in the air. The dice landed and as she looked, her lips curved ever so slightly upwards. _

*******

It would have been an act of strict self-control for Jim not to have tracked his roommate's departure down the hall, into the elevator, down to the street, and out to the car. Since no one was there to see his self–indulgence, Jim allowed himself to extend his hearing until Sandburg started up the big engine of the rented SUV and rolled out down the street. He listened to that sound until it merged with the noise of a thousand other Cascade city sounds that even Jim's enhanced hearing could no longer separate. Not wishing to induce a zone-out, Ellison turned his attention to enjoying some pasta with the sauce Blair had made especially for him.

******

Monday morning, Jim walked into the bullpen of Major Crimes and was nearly blinded by the garish string of red, white, and green lights strung along the outer edges of Detective Rafe's desk. The corners of his mouth, which had begun listing downward ever since he woke up that morning, began to droop down even further. Then Detective Henri Brown came into his view. The sight of Detective Brown's head, which apparently had spontaneously sprouted a pair of felt reindeer antlers, was a sight too much for the grouchy Sentinel. There was no doubt now that Jim's mouth had gone from a hint of a frown to an all out snarl in response to Rafe and Brown's too-cheery good mornings.

Brown and Rafe just looked at each other, shrugging their shoulders. The partners knew from experience that sometimes it just made good sense to stay the hell out of Ellison's way rather than approach him when he got like that.

Jim had no more than claimed his morning cup of coffee and sat down at his desk when he heard the voice of his captain calling him into his office. Jim sighed, picked up his coffee cup, and grabbed a seat in a chair across from the captain's desk.

"So, Jim, you finally got the kid out of your hair, huh?" Simon Banks smirked and leaned back in his chair. "You look like a man who's set to enjoy some peace and quiet for a change – not that I blame you." The Captain of the Major Crimes Department didn't wait for a response from his number one detective. Banks took a swig of his specially-brewed gourmet coffee, chuckled, then added, "Might want to keep it that way and have the locks changed before he gets back."

The chuckle died and the grin on the dark face faded as he observed for the first time, the expression on Jim Ellison's face. Jim didn't look amused at all. In fact_,_ thought Simon, Jim was doing a most remarkable imitation of the pissed-off looking man he'd met in this very office five years ago. _What the hell's wrong with him? _

Simon cleared his throat. "Uh... is everything all right, Jim? Sandburg's okay?"

To his inner horror, Jim realized he had telegraphed his bereft state to Simon and God knew who else since Sandburg's departure two days ago. By an act of sheer will, Jim's features smoothed out as he allowed the muscles in his face to relax. "Everything's fine, Captain." Jim looked at Simon's face, which clearly showed that he wasn't buying what Jim was trying to sell. Jim gave a short, sheepish-sounding laugh before revising his answer. "Look, I've sort of gotten used to Sandburg's weird food, his non-stop chatter, and his wet towels on the bathroom floor. It's just not the same with him gone."

Simon wisely refrained from poking fun at Jim's surprisingly candid revelation. "But you have heard from the kid since he left, correct?" he asked instead.

"Yes, Sir. Of course, he called to let me know that he had arrived in Montana okay. I haven't heard from him since, and I suspect he's enjoying himself visiting with Naomi and sneaking in 'field research' with any available single woman he can find."

Simon and Jim both laughed out loud at how right that sounded for the young police observer. "Listen, Jim, next time you talk to the kid, tell him I said to be careful up there."

Jim raised an eyebrow and teased back, "Careful, Simon, if someone else hears you, they might get the impression that you actually miss him."

Simon snorted in reply. "Believe me, Detective, Sandburg hasn't been gone nearly long enough for me to even contemplate missing him."

Boss and subordinate again laughed. It was the genuine easy laugh that came from years of mutual respect that had blossomed into a deep and abiding personal friendship. Now that the earlier tension had been thoroughly banished, Jim turned to business. "So, what did you really want to see me about, Sir?"

Simon reached over his desk and handed a brown case file over to Ellison. Jim began to flip through it casually while listening to his boss brief him as to the contents.

"According to the coroner's report, two years ago, one Andrew McNair, 14 years old at the time of his demise, died of cardiac arrest. While tragic, it appeared to be an open and shut case, due to the fact that the boy had a bad heart." Simon clicked his tongue in sympathy. "The boy was next on the transplant list to receive a new heart. He died just three days before they got the call that a compatible heart had been identified." Banks paused as if to collect his thoughts. "I can't imagine something like that happening to Daryl," he added in a low voice.

Jim nodded his head in understanding. Simon's son, Daryl, was the light of Simon's life. Daryl was all the good he had left out of a marriage that had lasted nearly 15 years before ending in a bitter divorce. "So who's saying the boy didn't simply run out of time?" Jim asked.

Captain Banks gestured toward the stack of papers in Jim's lap. "The medical examiner's report that came out two days ago does."

Ellison flipped through the file until he came to the report. "Damn," Jim swore under his breath. "It says here that Andrew died of arsenic poisoning." Jim flipped to the next attached page. "The medical toxicologist's report indicates that once arsenic is ingested, it's quickly absorbed into the body, attacks cell structures and among other things, causes heart failure."

"That about sums it up, Jim," Simon replied grimly.

"Okay, so why did it take having the boy's body exhumed nearly two years after he died to find this out?"

"Well, a couple of things, Jim. One being the obvious: the boy **was**very ill. He had a very serious heart condition, and without the transplant, he would have surely died. The fact that his heart suddenly gave out three days before they found a heart was taken at face value as simply being a medical tragedy. Two, his parents, who, by the way, are high society and very wealthy, used their influence to get things moving along quickly as far as taking possession of their son's body. There never was an autopsy to determine the cause of death and there didn't seem to be a need for one. A mere two days after the boy died, he was six feet under the ground."

"And the reason there finally was an autopsy?"

Simon leaned forward on both elbows. "Well, that's where things get interesting. Mrs. Barbara McNair has been Mr. Geoffrey McNair's ex-wife for just under two years now. Mr. McNair used to be the CEO of HealthTech Pharmaceuticals. His company lost millions of dollars by making unprecedented and foolish investments in an unusually high number of experimental drugs and technologies that the FDA later refused to approve. To make a long story short, the company went belly up and Mr. McNair went from a man who was making millions, to a man barely making it at his current job salary of a mere $125,000 per year."

Jim's "hmmf" showed just how much sympathy he had for the man surviving on that kind of money.

"Now, according to Mrs. McNair, her former husband began having an affair with a certain well-known supermodel from Hungary about three years before his son became ill."

Jim looked curious. "Who is she?"

"Alize Szabo," Simon replied, looking expectantly at Jim.

Jim shrugged. The name meant nothing to him, though he was appropriately impressed when he came upon her photo in the case file. The Sentinel emitted a low whistle at what he saw. The photo was a glossy eight by ten modeling headshot that showed a young woman in her mid-twenties, with high, sculpted cheek bones and full lips. Alize Szabo was an international beauty with stunning green eyes and very dark, almost jet black, long hair.

"Beautiful woman," was the extent of Jim's comment.

"She was a hot commodity in the modeling world about five years ago. By the time she met Mr. McNair, she wasn't much on the covers of American magazines anymore. She's all but faded from the spotlight now. Anyway, Mr. McNair was on the verge of leaving his wife to marry this woman when his son developed heart problems after a severe illness," continued Simon.

"She knew her husband was having an affair?"

"According to Mrs. McNair, she found out about the affair shortly before Andrew fell ill. She stated that her husband stayed in the marriage for the boy's sake. Shortly after the boy died, Mr. McNair filed for a quickie divorce, and six months later, he had a new wife."

"So she was pissed at her husband for dumping her and she accused him of murdering their son?" Jim asked, unable to hide his incredulous tone.

Simon looked heavenward as if looking for patience. "No, Jim, that's not what happened. Mrs. McNair is currently in a relationship with one of her son's former physicians. He began telling her from the get-go of the relationship, that while he never had any proof that Andrew died of any other cause than heart failure brought on by his illness, he felt that there was something medically off about the boy's sudden demise. He believed that an autopsy should have been performed to find out exactly what and how things went so wrong that fast. It took a while, but he was persuasive enough, and the mother had enough money and influence to get the courts to grant her request for her son's body to be exhumed."

Jim closed up the file. "So you think Mr. McNair had both motive and means to get rid of his son?"

Simon shrugged and lit a cigar. "Somebody killed this boy. It wouldn't be the first time a spouse removed an obstacle that was in the way of getting what they wanted."

Jim grunted his concurrence, then closed the case file and stood up. "Looks like I've got my work cut out for me, Sir."

"Best get to it then. Oh, and Jim?"

"Sir?" Jim paused at the door and looked inquiringly at Simon.

"Take Taggart with you when you go out to talk to Mr. McNair."

"Joel? Is he leaving the Bomb Squad?" Jim asked, genuinely concerned for the other detective, who he knew well and respected.

Simon sighed. He knew Jim wasn't going to be pleased that he had asked the Bomb Squad captain for the favor of borrowing Joel Taggart. After that, his nerves failed him and he took a demotion to Major Crimes as a detective for the two weeks that Sandburg, Jim's unofficial partner, would be gone. "No. He's just getting some refresher skills for two weeks in Major Crime."

"Uh, Simon, I don't think it will be necessary for him to come with me."

"I do. Take him with you, and that's an order." Simon used his firm, authoritative voice to end any further debate.

*******

Turned out that Detective Ellison's and Detective Joel Taggart's trip out to Mr. McNair's home in an upper-middle class suburb of Cascade was a bust. The former HealthTech CEO was on the East Coast attending a business conference on behalf of his newest employer. The company had confirmed that he was not expected back until that Thursday, thus the two detectives headed back to Jim's SUV to regroup. Undaunted, Jim turned to Taggart. "The day's not entirely wasted, Joel, let's go and talk to Mrs. McNair."

"Sounds like a plan," Jim's mild-mannered, heavy-set partner said in assent. Once in the SUV, Jim switched directions and headed out to Barbara McNair's mansion. On the cross-town drive over, the two men chatted casually about the case, the upcoming Jags game, and Jim's absent partner, Sandburg.

One traffic jam and thirty-five minutes later, the detectives arrived at the former McNair family home where the ex-Mrs. McNair still lived. It was an impressive estate with high, thick white columns in front, and a wide circular driveway with a scenic fountain in the center. The house was just one of the many things Mr. McNair had forfeited in the course of his costly divorce.

Jim rang the front door while Taggart stood looking about with an expression on his face that clearly showed how impressed he was with the McNair estate.

Within a minute, a matronly looking, middle-aged woman clad in a crisp, traditional maid's uniform opened the door. "May I help you, gentlemen?" she asked in a reserved, but courteous tone.

The detectives took out their credentials for the maid's perusal. "I'm Detective Ellison and this is Detective Taggart. We'd like to speak with Mrs. McNair, please."

The woman's warm brown eyes widened. "Come in. Follow me, please." The maid led the way past the foyer, down a hall, and into a room that looked like a small, tastefully decorated study. She quietly shut the double doors behind her, leaving Jim and Joel to await Mrs. McNair's arrival.

Taggart walked over to the antique mahogany desk and stared down at a gold-framed picture of a laughing, freckled-face young boy playing in the sand at the beach. The detective seemed mesmerized by the joyous innocence of the healthy looking child. Joel Taggart certainly was an experienced, seasoned police officer, yet the years of seeing the worst of humankind had not worn away his sensitive nature. The man's compassionate brown eyes reflected the sadness of the tragedy of a young life cut short. "And you must be Andrew," he said softly, too low to be heard across the room by anyone with normal hearing.

Jim heard him clearly and came over to the desk to look at the professional photograph. Before he could open his mouth to make a remark, the double doors opened inward and a blond woman, who looked to be in her late forties, walked in. It was clear she had been a very attractive woman when she was younger. She was still beautiful, but the cruelties of life had left her face with a bitter hardness. Her fine clothes, perfectly coifed hair and her makeup did little to hide the fact that she was grieving, angry, and under tremendous stress.

"Mrs. McNair, I'm Detective Jim Ellison and this is Detective Joel Taggart. We've been assigned to investigate the death of your son. We're sorry to come here unannounced, but your ex-husband is out of town, so we were unable to interview him. We thought we'd come by and talk to you about Andrew and your ex-husband."

"Thank you for coming, Detectives. I'll answer any questions I can. My son was murdered and I want his killer brought to justice," Mrs. McNair said bitterly.

Jim and Joel had no problem discerning from Barbara McNair's tone and facial expression that she meant her ex-husband.

Joel cleared his throat subtly. "Mrs. McNair, do you have any idea when Andrew would have ingested the arsenic? What was he doing in the days leading up to his death?"

Mrs. McNair's face lost a bit of its hardness and something akin to a hint of guilt crept in.

"Andrew died on a Monday morning. The weekend before, Geoffrey and I had some very important social events to attend, so we didn't see much of Andrew." Barbara looked away from the detectives, as though she believed she would see condemnation in their eyes. "I'll never forgive myself for not being there to know that something else was wrong with him," she continued softly. "Friday afternoon, Andrew complained that he was tired and had a headache."

Mrs. McNair's voice had a tinge of desperation to it when she said, "You have to understand something, Detectives, that wasn't unusual for my son. He needed a new heart, but he demanded that life be as normal as possible for him. Andrew worked hard to keep up with school projects and his friends when he could, but when things got to be too much, he just wanted to rest in his room." Mrs. McNair shrugged her shoulders slightly. "Not that I blame him," she murmured. "He lovedhis room so much; it has every conceivable video game, home theater system, and computer set-up imaginable."

"Has?" Jim asked, not missing the woman's use of the present tense.

An odd flush came over the grieving mother's face. She walked over to the desk and picked up the gold-framed picture of her son. She began to explain herself, keeping her eyes fixed on those of the dead boy, his joyful eyes frozen in time forever. "I was in shock when Andrew suddenly collapsed and died. I just knewthat a heart would be found for him in time. I believed that with all of my being, but... but when Andrew's heart gave out, I was just so angry." Only Jim's Sentinel hearing picked up what Mrs. McNair softly added next, "I was angry at Andrew."

"Is that why Andrew was buried almost immediately?" Joel asked sympathetically.

"Yes, Detective Taggart. Perhaps my being angry doesn't make sense, and I certainly realize how wrong I was now, but I was the one who insisted that Andrew be buried immediately." After a brief silence, Barbara placed the photograph down tenderly and turned to face the detectives. Her eyes were shiny with unshed tears as she continued, "Death stalked my son relentlessly. First we fought it; then we ran, then we just hid and waited. In the end, death won and we lost Andrew." A sigh full of longing and regrets escaped from the mother's lips.

"There didn't seem to be any point in delaying the funeral." A single tear spilled from one of the woman's eyes and trailed down her face. She brushed it away brusquely and took a deep breath. "We couldn't change what happened. Andrew needed to be buried, so Geoffrey and I buried our son. But I refuse to touch anything in Andrew's room. I don't care if other people think it's sick – my son's things are here just as he left them, and that's the way it's going to stay."

Jim and Joel simultaneously glanced at each other before Jim asked, "May we see Andrew's room?"

"Of course." Mrs. McNair seemed to pulled herself together and led the detectives up to Andrew's room.

Jim approached the room with a large degree of curiosity and a tiny amount of trepidation. His mind was sifting through the myriad possibilities of what he might find. Would being in the room feel like being in a bizarre, perfectly preserved shrine to a dead boy, or would it have a lived-in feel, as though its owner had simply gone to get a snack and would be coming right back? Ellison knew all too well about a house that had rooms like a cold museum, having grown up in one. Thinking about the frozen-in-time room stirred up ghosts of memories better left undisturbed and had Jim feeling slightly uncomfortable. Still, the Sentinel shrugged it off as he stepped through the door. He had a job to do and he needed to use his Sentinel abilities to help uncover any clues that might reveal who had robbed a member of his tribe of his young life before his time.

Mrs. McNair went up to the door of Andrew's room and no further. She watched with sorrowful eyes as Ellison and Taggart proceeded to step inside and look around. Joel couldn't seem to help himself; he let out a low whistle. From the look on his face, he was overwhelmed by the room. Never in his life had he imagined a 14-year-old boy's room to look like what Andrew's did with it's multitude of genuine, full-sized arcade games, a mini theater-style movie screen, and modified home-style vending snack machines. Everything in the room was wired for sound and entertainment. As for Jim, the Sentinel was silently grateful that nothing that could have triggered a zone-out was turned on. _This kid was never bored_, he mused silently.

Jim went to the center of the room and began to perform a visual sensory sweep. His keen mind took in and catalogued the contents of Andrew's entertainment paradise while Joel began to look through the drawers and on top of the shelves. Hanging on the walls were several guitars that had been autographed by various rock stars, and full-sized movie posters hung in between. Jim had no problem reading the signatures on the items with his Sentinel vision. Stacks of comic books and sports trading cards warred for space on the boy's desk, along with textbooks and volumes of classic literature. Abandoned sports equipment remained as keepers of the memories of Little League victories, skateboarding hang-tens, and unrealized hoop dreams.

Finding nothing of any evidentiary value, Ellison, followed by Taggart, proceeded to inspect Andrew's huge, walk-in closet. As expected, Barbara McNair had not disposed of her son's clothes. The closet was full of the dead youth's shoes, jeans, shirts, as well as shelves filled with old souvenirs, action figures and other toys and mementos from an earlier age in Andrew's life. Having found nothing, it was beginning to feel like a fool's mission.

It was Joel Taggart who, at the last moment, found something that might yield some clues as to who and how Andrew might have been poisoned. Joel's shoe came in contact with an old Nike shoebox in the corner, partially obscured from view by a pile of unwashed clothes. When he'd lifted the lid, he'd discovered Andrew's journals along with the boy's discreetly stashed magazines of 'questionable content'.

Joel called Jim's attention to the journals while simultaneously, tactfully, replacing the shoebox lid over the magazines. Joel began to leaf through one journal, while handing another over to Jim. As he took the proffered journal, Ellison couldn't help but be reminded of Blair. For almost as long as he had known his absent partner, the young man had religiously kept a journal to record his innermost thoughts. On quieter evenings, Jim would enjoy reading the latest best seller while Blair quietly wrote in his journal. Jim refocused his attention and began to thumb through one of journals from the month preceding Andrew's death.

"We're gonna need to take these journals with us, Ma'am, would that be all right?" Jim asked Mrs. McNair.

Mrs. McNair nodded. "Yes, of course," she murmured.

Ellison and Taggart gathered up the journals and quickly took their leave of Mrs. McNair and the shrine to her dead son. The detectives were eager to return to the office and begin combing through the journals for any possible clues.

Except for one brief exchange, the drive back was mostly accomplished in silence, each man lost in his own thoughts. Five minutes into the drive home, Joel had turned to Jim. "That was kinda creepy."

"Yup," came the taciturn reply.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

**LOL - like it? Hate it? Whatcha think? : )**

* * *

The next morning, Jim arose rather reluctantly from his warm bed. The alarm clock had jarred him awake seemingly minutes after his head hit the pillow and he'd closed his eyes. Ellison felt tired still. He'd stayed late at the precinct working on a few of his other cases before grabbing a bite to eat at Wonderburger. He'd enjoyed his double burger, guilt-free in the absence of Blair's lecturing on the evils of death-on-a-bun. Finally, with Andrew's later journals in his safekeeping for some late night reading, he headed home towards the silent loft. Truth be told, all Jim wanted to do was check the answering machine to see if Blair had called and left any messages.

There **had **been a message waiting for him, one where Blair talked a mile a minute about Naomi, the weather, and something about an obscure Indian birthing practice. Jim had chuckled to hear the enthusiasm in his young roommate's voice. The Guide had, at least temporarily, gifted his Sentinel with a lighter heart as he prepared to read through the dead boy's journals into the early morning hours.

When Ellison finally ambled into the station, he found a message on his voice mail from District Attorney Beverly Sanchez. The attractive DA had called to remind Jim that he needed to come to her office in order to go over his testimony he was to give the next day in one of the many high-profile criminal cases scheduled in Cascade.

Jim proceeded to spend his day with the lovely, but driven, Ms. Sanchez, being grilled and prepped for long hours on the testimony he was to give. Thus the Sentinel passed another long day without the companionship of his Guide, only to return again to the silent, empty loft in the evening. The lonely man looked at the calendar and silently cursed the number of days remaining until his roommate's return.

*******

Wednesday came and went with mind numbing, excruciating slowness. Of all the things Jim Ellison hated, sitting in the witness box all day long, observing the legal machinations of the lawyers was right at the top of his list. The theatrics may have provided some amusement, but the waiting around all day, and then having to sit on the uncomfortable chairs did nothing but aggravate Jim's short temper. Jim was therefore relieved when finally he was called to the stand to testify.

The cross-examination was as grueling as Beverly had warned him it would be, but Jim was unflappable under pressure; his calm, cool demeanor increasingly frustrated the defense attorney. Jim could see from looking at the smug expression on Beverly Sanchez's face that all was going well with his testimony, until...

Frustrated that he had been unable to shake Jim's testimony, the high-priced defense attorney snatched up one of the gruesome, full-color photographs of the brutally murdered victim; a toddler girl who had been sacrificed on an altar of depravity. In an impatient fit, the attorney turned around and shoved the grisly photograph in Ellison's face. Taken by surprise, almost immediately, the color images of blood, pain, and death began to swirl and merge into a kaleidoscope of pixels until Jim was pulled into the murky depths. The Sentinel saw red, the color of jelling blood; white, the color of jutting, ragged bone; and blue, the color of big, expressive, pain-filled eyes. Those eyes were the same color as Blair's. All else faded away, even the persistent, insistent, needling voice of his cross-examiner and the angry hammering of the judge's gavel.

Jim came to awareness quickly, but judging by the odd looks from those in attendance, and the laser-like gaze Sanchez was leveling at him, his zone-out had not gone unobserved. His head ached dreadfully. Inwardly mortified at his loss of control, and fervently wishing that Sandburg had been there, Jim dropped his head to his chest and covered his eyes with one hand. _Just great, _he muttered inwardly.

_******_

The next morning, Jim, accompanied again by Joel, made an early visit to Geoffrey McNair's modest, suburban home. Neither detective had uncovered anything incriminating in Andrew's journals, and, so far, the only suspect had been conveniently pointed out by an angry, ex-spouse. Jim knew things had to proceed carefully – Mr. McNair had been kept in the dark regarding his son's exhumation and subsequent discovery that the boy had, in fact, died of homicide. If the father were innocent, this would be the first time he had an opportunity to hear about the new reality. On the other hand, there were no other apparent suspects who had both means and opportunity to poison Andrew. As the former CEO of a pharmaceutical company, he could easily access the plants and laboratories where some of the medicines being manufactured, contained arsenic as an ingredient.

As for motive, Jim and Joel theorized that if the father's devotion to his family were an act, he could have taken the coward's way out of his promise to remain in the marriage for his son's sake. Either way, the Sentinel was committed to finding the person who was responsible for Andrew's murder, and bringing that person to justice.

_******_

As luck would have it, Mr. McNair was just on his way out the door when Detectives Ellison and Taggart arrived at the home.

"Oh, how the mighty have fallen,"Taggart mused aloud.

Mr. McNair's home, while upper middle class, was nowhere near the mansion he had given up in order to marry Alize Szabo. It was a red brick, colonial-style, two-car garage home with beautiful landscaping that, even in winter, looked highly maintained. The garage door was open, giving the men a clear look at the two vehicles parked inside. One was a Toyota sedan parked next to a traffic-stopping, rare classic car. Jim took a moment to look with an appreciative Sentinel eye at the mint condition, candy red '69 Corvette ZL-1.

Jim nodded his head toward the muscle car and asked, "She's a rare beauty. I bet you restored her yourself, didn't you?"

The wary look on McNair's face was overtaken by one of pleasure. "Why yes, I did, and she just happens to be the third rarest muscle car in the world."

"Must have been a real chore to take that dent out on the side the way you did."

Joel's curiosity was raised by Jim's casual remark since there was not the slightest mark on the side of the car that he could see.

Mr. McNair barely seemed to cover his surprise at Jim's comment. The autoshop had highly skilled-technicians and not even an expert could tell that there had once been significant dent on the side of the car. "Not as much trouble as you might think," is what he managed to say.

"'69 right? That's the one with the 427 V8 engine?"

Geoffrey McNair's lips curved upwards in a pleased, yet hesitant smile. "Yes, that's right. But you gentlemen aren't here to admire my car, are you?"

"No, we're not," Ellison replied. Jim and Joel simultaneously, dutifully, flashed their badges. "This is Detective Taggart and I'm Detective Ellison. Could we come inside and ask you a few questions?"

"Questions about what?" The wary look returned to McNair's face.

"Please, Mr. McNair, let's not do this outside," Joel intervened.

After a moment's hesitation, Mr. McNair stepped back through the open door and gestured the two men inside. He crossed his arms in front of him and waited expectantly.

"Uh, is your wife at home?" Joel inquired a bit awkwardly.

"My wife?" Mr. McNair's voice held an odd mixture of contempt and confusion.

Jim threw a sidelong glance at Joel before breaking in smoothly. "Alize - that is your wife's name, isn't it?"

Mr. McNair emitted a short, bitter laugh. "Gentlemen, you need a more up-to-date source of information. Alize has not been my wife for over a year now. In fact, if you want to talk to her, you can give her newest husband my deepest condolences – she's his problem now."

Jim mentally filed that piece of information away for later. Right now, he wanted to gauge Mr. McNair's reaction to the news of Andrew's poisoning. "Mr. McNair, there's no easy way to say this. It's been determined that your son didn't die of heart failure as a consequence of his illness. He died of arsenic poisoning."

Jim and Joel both watched Mr. McNair closely, but only one of them had the immediate ability to monitor his heart rate. Mr. McNair's face blanched, and he backed away from the men, eyes wide with shock. "Wh - What did you say? Is this some kind of a sick joke?"

"I assure you, Mr. McNair, this is no joke," Joel stated. "Your son's body was exhumed at the request of your former wife. Andrew's mother," Joel hastily clarified "A medical examiner performed a thorough autopsy on Andrew and the results conclusively prove that your son died of arsenic poisoning."

There was a moment of stunned silence in which Jim and Joel continued to scrutinize Mr. McNair. "Oh, my God!" McNair gasped out before collapsing into the nearest winged-back chair. "How? I don't understand. How could this have happened? Who would want Andrew dead?" Geoffrey looked genuinely lost and bewildered at the revelation.

"That's what we're trying to find out." Jim's voice was deliberately hard. In the next few moments he hoped to at least satisfy himself that he was dealing with a grieving father and not a murderer.

"But Andrew didn't have any enemies, he was just a child, for Christ's sake!" McNair looked totally stunned. "The very day after Andrew was buried, the hospital found a compatible donor. How ironic is that?" he asked, his eyes filling with tears.

"Mr. McNair, isn't it true that just before Andrew got sick, you were about to ask your wife for a divorce?

"Yes, I'm not proud of that fact, but that's not a secret either."

Jim continued on as if he hadn't heard Mr. McNair. "But because you're such an honorable man, you promised your wife you'd stay in the marriage for Andrew's sake?" The word "honorable" was said with dripping sarcasm.

"My son was very ill. How could any father leave his family at a time like that? Wait a minute…?Just wait a minute." McNair shook his head as if trying to awaken himself from a bad dream. "You said Barbara had Andrew exhumed? Why would she do that without even talking to me first?"

"Your wife had her suspicions about your son's death. She has reason to believe that you had ample motive and opportunity to kill Andrew." Jim was carefully monitoring his subject's heart rate. So far, after the initial elevation upon hearing the news of Andrew's poisoning, Mr. McNair's heart rhythm had indicated no deception.

Mr. McNair stared speechlessly at Jim before finding his tongue. "I don't believe this! She's lost her mind!"

Jim's voice was low and deadly as he got right in Mr. McNair's face. "Did you figure with Andrew as sick as he was, he wouldn't have long to live, then you'd be free to leave your wife, and your reputation would remain intact? Only maybe you miscalculated. Andrew's name went to the top of the list for a new heart faster than you thought, and that would have meant sticking around for another four years until he turned 18."

Joel leaned in and threw out a 'good cop' comment: "Hey, I can understand with a woman like Alize, that maybe it got a little tough to wait it out."

"No. No, you are so wrong. I didn't poison my son! I don't know who could have done that, but whoever did, I want you to catch them and make them pay!" Geoffrey's voice was husky from a mixture of anger, shock and grief.

The former high-powered CEO looked straight up into the face of Detective Ellison. Ellison's ice-blue eyes bored into McNair's, seemingly with the power of lasers possessing the strength to skewer him alive.

"I did not poison my son and I don't know who did," was all McNair managed to get out in a whisper.

It was enough to satisfy Jim that Mr. McNair had told them the truth. His heartbeat had remained steady and the anguish and confusion on the man's face was too deep, too profound to have been an act. But if Mr. McNair had not murdered his son, who had?

*******

**Friday Night**

The men gathered around Jim's table for the monthly poker game, loudly guffawing at the funny story the boisterous Henri "H" Brown told at his partner, Rafe's, expense. The normally suave detective was red-faced at the good-hearted ribbing, but that didn't keep the youngest member of the Major Crime Unit from enjoying the feeling of camaraderie that came with membership in the elite group. H raised his can of beer in a mock toast towards Rafe. "Don't worry about it, baby, you know I got your back."

This set off another round of laughter in the men, including Jim, who hadn't wanted to host the poker night in the first place. The others had resoundingly rejected Jim's lame attempts to cancel, and instead had become determined to make Jim hold up his end of the rotating host duties, Sandburg or no Sandburg.

Simon puffed on his cigar while eyeing his cards with ill-concealed delight. At seeing that, Joel who was up next, prudently called, "Check," while H popped a piece of popcorn chicken into his mouth and chased it down with swig from his beer.

The game continued on until Rafe leaned back and addressed Joel. "I hear you've had the rare privilege of acting as the stand-in partner for Jim "Kick Ass" Ellison? What's it really like working with him?"

Joel glanced briefly at Jim. No one caught the speculative look that passed over Joel's face and was gone in a split second.

"It's okay, considering the case we've been working. It's a two-year-old murder that no one but the murderer knew about until a few days ago. You never know how a murder case is going to pan out. Jim and I both thought we had a solid suspect in the murdered boy's father, but now we're pretty sure he didn't do it."

When Joel didn't say more, Rafe prompted him to continue. "So who do you think killed the boy?"

"Gentlemen, gentlemen," Simon interrupted, "don't you know it's bad form to talk shop during a poker game?" Simon was well aware of the current status of the case and wasn't keen on hearing the details again. Before Jim had departed for the day, he had briefed Simon about the latest developments, starting with Mr. McNair's interview.

Captain Banks had poured Jim a mug of coffee while he himself enjoyed a stogie before his number one detective brought him up to speed on the case. Turned out that Jim and Joel had gotten some interesting information from Mr. McNair about his second wife, Alize. The ink had not even had sufficient time to dry on their divorce decree before Alize became engaged to another wealthy businessman. As bitter as Mr. McNair was about her apparent flight to greener pastures, he was adamant that she had not harmed his son. Jim had gone on to report that Mr. McNair was clear on the point that he had never introduced Alize to his family, nor ever brought her over to the house, thus he was certain that she would not have had access to either Andrew's food or drink to poison him.

Joel shrugged. He was reluctant to say more, deferring to Jim's choice as lead detective as to whether or not to continue discussing the case.

Jim chuckled. "Well, since you don't have enough unsolved cases of your own, I'll tell you this much: Alize Szabo McNair Anderson is either one unlucky woman, or she gave Joel and me an Academy Award performance of a lifetime." Jim went back to studying his cards.

"Don't leave a brother hangin' like that. What's up with this woman?" H asked with exaggerated interest.

"All right, all right. Apparently, when Alize married Geoffrey McNair, the part about ''til death do us part' didn't include bankruptcy and a home in a middle class suburb."

Looking intrigued by Jim's comment, H and Rafe kept one eye on their respective hands as well as an ear out for Ellison's tale as the men pressed on with their poker game.

Jim's mind started to turn over the events of earlier that day, and as he began to explain what happened, he was drawn into his memories ....

**Earlier That Day**

Alize Anderson's new digs were as impressive as the ones Barbara McNair currently occupied. Jim and Joel both experienced a weird sense of deja vu as they once again rang the doorbell to a prestigious home, and were subsequently ushered inside by a maid in uniform.

That's where any similarity to the Barbara McNair home visit stopped. The maid standing before them now seemed to be mentally preoccupied with something, and yet she behaved as though she had been expecting them. Neither detective had even had time to flash their credentials or introduce themselves before the maid threw out a hasty, "Thank you for coming," before quickly turning and gesturing for them to follow her rapidly retreating form.

Puzzled and curious at the maid's odd behavior, Taggart shrugged and Jim merely tilted his head slightly to the side. Joel made a sweeping 'after you' gesture with his arm and Ellison proceeded to use his long legs to his advantage in catching up to the scurrying woman, while the heavy-set Taggart lumbered down the hall after them.

A minute later they found themselves in what could only be the family library, judging by the expensive bookcases filled, top to bottom, with hardbound books. There were six individuals inside the room, four women and two men. Most were dressed in black or other dark clothing. Three of the women appeared to have been crying. One of the women not crying was none other than Alize Anderson, Jim observed. Other than the fact that she was dressed in somber, solid black, which was suggestive of mourning attire, she looked calm and collected. She was also one of the most stunningly beautiful women Jim had ever seen.

Alize's detached coolness not withstanding, the air in the room felt heavy as if weighed down by an oppressive, tangible grief. Clearly, the detectives had landed themselves in the midst of some sort of family tragedy. Six pairs of eyes turned towards the newcomers.

Alize arose gracefully from her seat and glided over to the detectives in stiletto heels and with an eager expression on her sculpted face, that immediately made Jim feel uncomfortable. She resembled some kind of predatory cat about to pounce on a meal. Her head never moved as her green eyes first swept down Jim, stopping only a second at his empty hands before moving over to Joel. Upon seeing that Joel's hands were equally empty, a sour expression came over her face. "Why don't you have the papers with you?" she demanded in a haughty, annoyed voice.

Jim smoothly took out his credentials and Joel followed suit. "Mrs. Anderson, I don't know who you **think **we are, but I'm Detective Ellison, and this is Detective Taggart. Now, obviously we've come at a bad time. Would you mind telling us what's going on?"

Alize's eyes remained cold like glaciers, but her voice trembled with feigned sadness. She was good, very good, but she was no match for an intuitive man like Jim, who also happened to be a cop with enhanced senses. "My husband suddenly passed away two days ago. The doctors said it was acute heart failure. I'm expecting my husband's attorneys and I mistook you gentlemen for them. Now, if you have no business here, I suggest that you leave."

Jim and Joel exchanged glances that silently communicated to each other how interesting they found that bit of news. Jim realized the very fact that Alize Anderson's newest husband had died suddenly of heart failure, just as Andrew McNair had, did not suggest in any factual way that her husband had actually died of something else, or that she had had a hand in it, but it did raise an odd similarity and the possibility of a link that required further exploration.

"As luck with would have it, we do have business here. We'd like to ask you a few questions about the McNair family."

"The McNair family?" Alize asked, her face never changing expression. "I never met my ex-husband's family. I can tell you nothing. Louisa," Alize Anderson beckoned to a maid who had been discreetly standing by in a corner, "show these gentlemen out. Now."

"Mrs. Anderson, we'd be happy to invite you to come downtown to the police station with us to answer some questions, or we can do it here, in another room where you can have some privacy." Jim's tone was coolly polite.

Alize raised an imperious eyebrow. "Am I under arrest?"

"No. No, you're not," Joel quickly replied, ready to mediate. "We won't take up much of your time at all, we just want to find out what we can about who Andrew was with, and what he was doing in the days before he died."

"And how would I know? I've already told you two that I never met him." She shrugged and added, "He had a bad heart, and then he died. End of story."

"Not quite." Jim gave a chilly smile. "Seems that somebody had it out for him. He died of arsenic poisoning."

"That is terrible, but hardly my concern since I had nothing to do with it." The spoken words were calm, bordering on coldness, but the heart within her that was now beating like a trip hammer told the Sentinel what he wanted to know. The beautiful former model was lying. "This interview is over," she declared.

While Alize Anderson stood before the men, proud, regal – a perfect specimen of cruel beauty, the Sentinel's subconscious was busy sifting through and discarding the whispery memories of other beautiful and deceptive women he'd known, trying to find the one of whom Alize reminded him. At last his mind recalled the name and face: Laura McCarthy, AKA Jane Cunningham, the pyrotechnics expert who hid her criminal mind behind her stunning outward beauty. _I got your number now, lady. _


	3. Chapter 3

**Author Note: Will Jim get his man…er, woman? Did Blair reach his destination? Let's find out. On with the tale!**

* * *

**The Loft**

"So what are you going to do now?" Rafe asked curiously, just when the phone started ringing.

Jim smirked, "Right now I'm gonna answer the phone. It's probably Sandburg."

And it was.

Blair was exuberant and slightly out of breath. "Hey, Jim! Let me guess – Simon made veiled threats about putting you on foot patrol, H said he'd serenade you to death, and Rafe swore he'd give you a fashion makeover if you tried to back out of hosting the poker game tonight?"

Jim grinned sheepishly, slightly embarrassed at how well Blair had read the situation. "Got it in one, Chief. And guess what?"

"What?"

"Next time we're up for hosting duties, Junior, you're buying all the beer and snacks!"

The perpetually nearly broke Sandburg laughed, "Whatever delusions make you happy, man."

Jim's company looked on with growing curiosity at the sight of Ellison grinning while talking on the phone with Sandburg. They didn't even try to hide the fact that they were trying to follow the conversation. Though the men had been around Jim in many a social setting, there was something quite altogether different about Jim's very appearance now as he spoke to his vacationing roommate. The former Army Ranger and crack detective looked incredibly relaxed, happy – oddly, emotionally transparent.

"Hey, Jim, say hello to the guys for me, will you?" Blair chuckled, "I know they're trying to follow this conversation."

"Sandburg says 'Hi', and he said stop listening in, too," Jim obfuscated for good measure with a seldom seen, Ellison grin.

More than one of Jim's poker-playing friends stared slack-jawed in amazement at him. All the while Ellison looked at them, looking at him, before he cheekily flipped them the bird and turned around, presenting his back to them.

The modicum of privacy created allowed Jim to turn serious as he inquired after his guide's general welfare and that of his mother. Blair cheerfully filled him in on all the goings on until the Sentinel was satisfied that all was well with his Guide.

Then it was the Guide's turn to inquire about the welfare of his Sentinel. "So how've you been, Jim? Any trouble with your senses?"

"I'm fine, they're fine, we're all fine, Sandburg. Taggart's been temporarily assigned to work with me on a murder case."

"That's good, Jim. I'm glad to hear you've got someone watching your back while I can't be there. Umm... so does that mean you haven't had any zone-outs?" the young anthropologist persisted in his original line of questioning.

"No." Jim's answer was deliberately ambiguous, and Blair seemed to let it go, apparently realizing that if Jim had zoned, now was not the time that the older man would want to discuss the details – not when so many of his friends were within earshot and no doubt, making him feel on the spot.

"Well, I'd better let you get back to your poker game now, Jim, and I'll just get back to... well, whatever I was doing before I called you."

Jim chuckled softly. "I don't even want to know, do I, Sandburg?"

When Ellison hung up the phone, he didn't turn around right away. His soul had just received an unexpected gift of liberation from an unknowing Sandburg, and he was reveling in the sensation. The last stubbornly clinging, subconscious, irrational fear caused by the many hurtful abandonments of the past, which had been resurrected upon Blair's announcement that he was going away, had melted away and been banished from his heart by the power of the simple last words spoken by his Guide: "I'm having a great time here, Jim, but, man, I can't **wait** to get home!"'

*******

The weekend came and went in a controlled blur for the Sentinel. He'd planned out his days so that he'd take in a movie, spend some time in the gym working out, and do a bit of deep cleaning in the loft before preparing himself for his realmission: braving the noisy, crowded shopping malls looking for gifts to buy for those on his list, short though it was. There was Simon Banks who was not only his captain, but his friend. There was Rafe, whose name Jim had drawn in the annual Major Crime gift exchange, and of course, there was Blair.

Jim had at first thought it would be fairly easy to buy a gift for his young friend. Sandburg was, after all, only a low-paid teaching fellow, living in a little room under the stairs. But the more Jim thought about it, the more he realized that he wanted, no, needed,to give his Guide a gift that showed how much he really did appreciate the fact that Blair had literally saved both his career and his sanity at a frightening time, when his senses had been spiraling out of control. Truth was, the young man had continued to selflessly watch his back, providing unconditional friendship and genuine brotherly love, far more than any other person in his life had.

The Sentinel dressed for battle: jeans, comfortable low-cut boots, and a soft, black sweater to start. He armed himself next: his cell phone, an old mall store directory, his American Express card, checkbook, debit card, and two tablets of Excedrin were his weapons of choice.

Before leaving, he paused in front of the mirror and practiced affixing a pleasant expression upon his face. The stern visage gazed stubbornly back at him. _This is gonna take more work._

**Monday Morning**

Detective Jim Ellison's early morning entrance into the Major Crime Unit's bullpen was much like last Monday's, with one marked difference: Rafe's desk was still bedecked with garish lights, but in fact, an additional set had been added, as if its owner feared that some deprived soul would fail to see the display. Last week's set of felt reindeer antlers sprouted no more from Henri Brown's head. Instead, someone had thoughtfully photocopied a picture of Jim's police identification badge headshot, enlarged it, and pinned it and the antlers above the head, to the wall behind Jim's desk.

Henri and Rafe, along with Vera from Records, sauntered over to greet Jim. Ellison shook his head at the office antics as he took a seat behind his desk. "Cute, guys. Lucky for you, it's too early in the morning to kill anyone and hide the bodies," he deadpanned.

"The man do look good this morning, don't he?" H asked with a conspiring wink.

"I enjoyed my weekend. What can I say?" Ellison quipped back.

"Not you – him!" H pointed to the picture of Jim adorned with the felt antlers.

In a move that took them all by surprise, even himself, Jim plucked the reindeer antlers from the picture and set them upon his head, which caused the gang to burst out laughing at Jim's exceptional display of good sportsmanship.

The jovial mood quickly dissipated and Jim yanked the reindeer antlers down from his head when Captain Banks stuck his head out of his office and unhappily thundered, "You people _do_ have reports to file and cases to solve, right?" He went back into his office and shut the door loudly.

The group disbanded, each person except for Jim, silently going back to their respective desks and turning attention towards work assignments. Ellison stared after the shut door of Simon's office and frowned. He had a strong sense that his Captain had been upset by something out of the ordinary and that's what had led to the gruff rebuke, rather than the brief moment of boisterous laughter from the troops.

After a moment's more hesitation, Jim got up, went over to Simon's door and knocked on it – ostensibly to discuss something work-related.

"Come," Simon barked.

Jim leaned casually against the wall as he gazed at his boss. Simon no longer tried to hide the fact that he was upset about something personal. It showed in his dark eyes in a mixture of sadness, anger, and frustration. "You want to talk about it, Simon? Maybe I can help?" Jim was treading carefully. There was a certain irony in the situation at hand.

They were both strong men, not accustomed to examining emotional vulnerabilities in the light of day. Last week, it had been Jim who had let down the stoic mask to reveal his private emotions to his boss. Would his boss feel free to reciprocate? Did he trust in Jim's friendship to allow him to listen and to help if he could? Within minutes, the Sentinel had his answer.

"Joan called me just before I left the house this morning." Simon began with a heavy sigh. "Even though it's my year to have Daryl for the holidays, it seems as though she neglected to tell me that his Gifted Student Program is involved in some sort of international academic competition, and that Daryl was one of three students selected to participate."

"Well, that's great, Simon."

Simon spared Jim a look that conveyed all the annoyance and frustration he felt. "In Mexico. Over Christmas."

"Oh." Jim let a brief silence settle while he contemplated how he could have let himself step right in the middle of that which would require him to come up with something wise and comforting to say to his boss. Though not a parent, Jim could relate to Simon's situation and the hurt feelings that inevitably followed. When he'd thought Blair was skipping out on their holiday plans in favor of a better offer, he had felt angry, sad, abandoned into an aching void. Clearly, Simon's feelings were pretty much on the mark in regards to Daryl's similar news.

The solution, when it came to Jim like a flash of lightning, was one that the detective was willing to offer, and yet was one undeniably heavily rooted in the premise that surely Simon would decline and thus negate the need for making additional arrangements – chiefly those that would involve Jim having to socialize with his Captain in a totally different setting than the few he was accustomed to, according to the well-defined parameters of their friendship.

Parameters be damned; Jim resolutely took the plunge. "Sir," reverting back to more formal language, "there's no need to spend Christmas by yourself. Why don't you come over on Christmas Eve, have a glass of wine, and watch some of the old classic Christmas movies with Sandburg and me? On Christmas Day we're going cook a nice dinner – we'll have more than enough food, I guarantee that." There, the invitation was out and now it was Simon's turn to gracefully decline. Jim waited expectantly, an 'It's ok, really,' already on his tongue, poised to issue forth.

Much to Jim's inner horror, the next words out of Simon's mouth were not those of regretful begging off. On the contrary, Simon sounded suspiciously like he was touched and grateful for the invite, which he promptly accepted.

After confirming the times, Jim departed Captain Bank's office with the distinct feeling that he had just played the shell game and lost to a pro.

*******

Jim spent the rest of the morning getting information about Neil Anderson, Alize's newly married, and newly dead, husband. A wealthy man who moved in high social circles, it wasn't hard to locate pictures of him with members of his immediate family. One particular photo caught Jim's eye. Three demure young women stood together with arms entwined, and open, innocent faces looking out upon the world. He easily recognized the women as the three who had been present at Alize's home when he and Joel had stopped by to interview Mrs. Anderson. A newspaper article about the young women indicated that they were the daughters of the deceased.

Another old family photograph clearly showed the relationship of one of the two men who had also been present in the home. Jim's continued search yielded the man's name in short order. David Anderson was the only son of Neil Anderson. The other man was apparently Paul Gordon, husband of Elizabeth, the eldest daughter.

Before long, Jim had collected addresses and telephone numbers for Neil Anderson's children only, having learned that the wife and mother of Neil's children had passed away eight years before.

The detective now turned to another task: reaching out to some contacts within Interpol. Eventually, an agent got back to him and smoothed the way for Jim to talk to some local Hungarian authorities in and around Alize's hometown.

It was nearing the end of the day when his local source got back in touch with him via email. A thoughtful expression came over his face as he read the contents. Dark possibilities paired with scant evidence to dance a bizarre tango in the detective's mind. The Sentinel had questions for which he had no immediate answers. But unsolved mysteries could be solved. One door closed could open another. The information provided therein was like a thread dangling tantalizingly from a spool. Jim knew that all it would take was one good pull and the entire bobbin Ellison believed Alize had so carefully wound would unravel.

Jim made a few phone calls. His last call was to the Medical Examiner's office, where he spoke briefly, but urgently with Dan Wolfe. Then he got up from his desk, grabbed his coat and headed rapidly out the door.

******

_Four more days. Just four more days and Sandburg will be back and I'll stop feeling so... alone. _And if there'd been a time when even the hint of any such sentiment would have sent him reeling, he had no longer had such a machismo reaction. He was beyond that now. Sometimes his senses flared suddenly and he felt like he was going down that slippery slope of lost control, into the valley filled with the shame and the fear of those terrible months before Sandburg arrived with both enlightenment about his condition and friendship.

Jim hung up his jacket, placed his keys on the hook by the door and just stood still, looking around the loft at the tree and the various decorations that now seemed to subtly mock him. Jim tried to shake off the uncomfortable thoughts and feelings. After all, it had been an interesting day, that had brought him one step closer to knowing who had most likely murdered Andrew McNair.

He should have felt satisfied by the way the case was progressing. Lately, his life seemed to revolve around 'should haves.' Jim contemplated the irony of the situation. He should have felt content to come home to the sanctuary of the loft, blessedly clean and tranquil, sans Sandburg. There were no unusual science experiments disguised as food taking up space in his refrigerator. There were no unsightly piles of papers and books perched precariously on places that had spontaneously turned into shelves. There were no wet towels to contend with, and above all, there was no thing, no one, not even a Barbary Ape in sight that would require him to make responses to intrusive conversation. As much as Jim enjoyed his friendship with Blair under the same roof, it did not come without cost to his enjoyment of solitude and need to maintain an ordered life.

The solitary detective of old shouldhave been happy with the prospect a few more days with the loft all to himself. That was the life Jim Ellison had before a week long favor of room and board to an almost virtual stranger had turned into a permanent living arrangement for someone he cared about.

Jim, the man, missed his adopted brother. Jim, the Sentinel, missed his Guide. Though not a cop, Blair could help solve a case with the best of them and oftentimes, his uncanny insight and amazing breadth of knowledge not only helped Jim use his unusual abilities more effectively, they produced key pieces of the puzzle needed to solve a perplexing crime.

Well, Jim just happened to have one of those perplexing crimes now – a two-year old one at that. He wished Sandburg was around to bounce ideas off of. Still, even without the anthropologist's observations, his own intuition and perseverance had gotten him steps closer to finding out if Alize had murdered Andrew.

When Jim had taken off very late in the afternoon, he was a man on a mission. The detective had learned via one of his phone calls, that Neil Anderson's body was still at the hospital morgue, having not yet been released to the funeral home. That was good news to Jim who, together with Simon, worked the system with lightning speed to obtain a court order for an autopsy.

Hours later, Ellison quickly shut down his computer, and made ready to head over to the hospital. But first, he had had an important side trip to make. Once in his vehicle, he'd hastily pulled out his cell phone and left a message for Joel to meet him at the residence of Paul and Elizabeth Gordon.

Having met the current Mrs. Anderson, Ellison had guessed that there had been no love lost between Neil Anderson's children and Alize. Meanwhile, Taggart hoped that asking Elizabeth to accompany them to the hospital would not strain the reserved detective's diplomatic skills.

It turned out that Jim's intuitive guess regarding the state of things among the Andersons had proven true. Taggart and Ellison had spoken to Elizabeth, and right away gotten confirmation that the marriage between Alize and Neil had been opposed, and that there was an intense, mutual dislike between Alize and Neil's children.

More importantly, when asked, Elizabeth had willingly accompanied the detectives down to the hospital morgue where Dan Wolfe was already standing by. Once there, Neil Anderson's daughter grimly observed the serving of the court decree upon the hospital pathologist, thus permitting the Cascade Police Department's Medical Examiner to easily obtain from the body, the necessary samples in order to conduct the medical tests capable of detecting arsenic. The mission had been accomplished. Dan Wolfe would conduct his tests and relay his conclusions to Jim the next day. There being nothing else left for Jim to do, he had headed home, closed the door behind him, and locked out the world. By the door was exactly where the weary Sentinel still was when he finally came out of his musings a full ten minutes later.

Jim finally moved away from the door and went into the kitchen to fix himself a sandwich and a bowl of soup for dinner. Eventually, the lonely Sentinel moved to the couch and kept one eye on the ballgame, and another pointlessly on the phone as if willing it to ring. He knew it wouldn't – Sandburg had already told him that this was the day that he and a group of Naomi's friends were going night skiing.

That night, long after the ball game had played out to an audience of one on the soundless TV, Jim climbed the stairs to his bedroom and lay down on the bed. Outside, the moon gave off a generous light that illuminated a swatch running from the window, across to the head of the bed. Jim watched with Sentinel eyes, the rain mixing with sleet as it fell sideways out of the sky, and the disquiet in his heart was soothed sufficient unto sleep.

TBC

**Author Note: Thank you so much, Chiclete for not only reading, but taking the time to leave a review. You made my day and I hope you'll be able to enjoy the rest of the tale! **


	4. Chapter 4

**Thank you, kindly to each dear reader who enjoyed the story thus far and left a review! It's very nice of you and I appreciate you. **

**Now on with the tale! : ) **

* * *

**Tuesday Early Afternoon**

A shadow fell over Jim's desk causing the engrossed detective to look up in surprise. He found Dan Wolfe looking down at him, a file in his hand and an inscrutable look on his Native American features. Ellison couldn't help the frown that pulled at the corners of his mouth. Though the Medical Examiner most certainly had news pertaining to Jim's investigation that he was eager to hear, the Sentinel was not happy to know that he'd not heard Dan's approach at all. _What the hell's going on, here?_

"Something wrong?" Dan asked solicitously.

"Nothing." Twin ice blue eyes looked intently up at Dan. Jim leaned his tall, well-shaped frame back in his chair and waved his hand casually at the file in the examiner's hand. "So... was I right?"

Now, something akin to admiration shone from Dan's dark eyes, giving his face a rather approving look. "You were right, Ellison. The tests I ran indicated high enough levels of arsenic in the body to conclusively prove that Neil Anderson died of arsenic poisoning and not natural causes. Here are copies of the toxicology reports where you can read the tests and results for yourself."

Alize's haughty face came into view in Jim's mind. Knowing that he had most likely correctly identified the dead man's opportunistic wife as the murderer would have had him feeling elated under normal circumstances. But any feelings of professional glee he might have had were considerably tempered with the knowledge that this woman, whom Geoffrey McNair had loved to distraction, had also most likely murdered an innocent, helpless child.

Then there was the matter of Ellison's years of experience in law enforcement, combined with what his gut feeling told him, versus his current lack of concrete proof that it was Alize who had administered the poison.

There were three places he needed to revisit in search for that proof. His brow furrowed in thought, the Sentinel sat still for a moment in quiet contemplation. Then he reached for the phone.

Two hours later, an anxious and curious Geoffrey McNair arrived at the station and was escorted up to an interview room on the building's seventh floor where he waited for Detective Ellison. He didn't have to wait long. Within five minutes, the door opened, admitting the Detective whom he remembered as being tall and imposing – not to mention, possessing a quality that was unnamed and yet just a bit the wrong side of normal.

Jim spared McNair a nod and penetrating stare from his glacier-blue eyes, then he took a seat across the table from Geoffrey and began speaking. "I believe I know who killed your son, and I need your help to prove it." Short and to the point, Geoffrey was taken by surprise. His face registered the shock of the news and then his eyes took on an eager glint.

"Who, Detective? Tell me the name of the sonovabitch who murdered Andrew!" he demanded coldly, every inch the former high-powered CEO.

Jim ignored the question and asked instead, "I need you to think very carefully. This is important. Did Alize at anytime have access to anything that Andrew and only Andrew would have eaten or drunk?"

McNair at first looked at Jim with an incredulous expression – right before a look of sheer anger came over his face. "You asked me to leave work, come across town in that god-awful traffic to ask me the same damn question you asked me before? I told you, Alize nevermet my son, or my wife for that matter!" he all but yelled.

"That's not the question I asked you," Jim replied in a cool, low voice. "I know something that concerns Alize that I'm not at liberty to divulge yet. But you have to trust me – it's vital that I know if it's possible that Alize could have poisoned your son. Now think, did she have access to Andrew's food or drink?"

Silently, Jim watched the anger leech out of McNair's face until the man lowered his head to his chest, almost as if he had fallen asleep. Jim continued to watch and wait – and was rewarded when McNair abruptly raised his head, a light dawning in his eyes, mingled with what looked like a healthy dose of grief and denial. "Oh my God! She wouldn't? She didn't!" McNair looked helplessly at Jim before getting a grip on his emotions.

He began to speak slowly. "For a long time, Barbara and Andrew didn't know that I had been having an affair. There came a time when I was finally ready to leave my family and marry Alize. I told Barbara and eventually, Barbara told Andrew. You can only imagine how hurt and angry Andrew was, but he was still an adolescent boy. You understand what I'm saying?"

Jim caught the ball. "Even though he was mad about what you were doing, there was some part of him that thought his dad must be a pretty cool guy if a world-famous supermodel like Alize Szabo wanted to be with him."

McNair sighed. "Yes, that's right. He was mad for a little while and then he started asking to meet her. I still couldn't bring myself to introduce her to them, but things looked like they were going to turn out okay. Then Andrew got sick and I just couldn't leave him – not like that." He paused and his shoulders drooped with the weight of old guilt. "Alize asked me repeatedly to leave, but I just told her no."

Jim cleared his throat and leaned forward. "This is all very interesting, Mr. McNair, but so far I'm not hearing what I need to know."

"I'm getting to that," McNair mumbled as he closed his eyes for a moment. "Andrew was still sick, but there was a time when he wasn't getting any worse. He seemed to be holding his own. Alize was unhappy, and she was pressuring me. Finally, I told her that I would accompany her on a trip back to Hungary as a way to make her feel better about not being able to leave my family to marry her."

Long used to hearing the seamier side of humanity, Jim still found Geoffrey McNair's tale distasteful. Nevertheless, Jim carefully maintained a neutral expression as he listened. McNair continued, "Alize and I had a great time in Hungary. I admit, I just wasn't thinking about Andrew on that trip. It wasn't until we had landed back in the States when I realized that I hadn't brought back a gift for him."

His next words were steeped in the bitterness he had helped to fashion with his own hand. "Alize came to my rescue." He shook his head in residual disbelief. "She handed me a box of Hungarian chocolates and told me they were for Andrew. She must have but I don't understand – the box was wrapped. I took it from her with my own hands!"

"A box can be rewrapped," Jim grimly noted. "Mr. McNair, how did Alize know that Andrew wouldn't share that candy with other people?"

"She knew. Oh, she knew all right." The guilt in the grieving father's voice was palpable and his eyes that stared out from his pale face were shadowed. "Barbara was always somewhat of a health food nut. She never ate sweets herself. After Andrew got sick, she became darn near fanatical about it. There was no junk food allowed, and God forbid, any candy in the house. There's no doubt in my mind that after Andrew got sick, if she'd have seen him with a box of chocolates, she would have confiscated it immediately."

Much to Mr. McNair's astonishment, the reserved detective with the chiseled features sitting across from him abruptly stood up, thus signaling an end to the interview.

"Mr. McNair, thank you for coming in. You've been most helpful."

"Wait! That's it?" Mr. McNair quickly stood up. "Where are you going?"

The answer he received dumbfounded him. _"To find a box of chocolates."_

**Wednesday Morning**

Standing in the middle of the perpetual shrine to the dead boy for the second time was no less disconcerting to Detectives Ellison and Taggart than the first time they'd been there. The abandoned high-tech toys, the untouched books, rumpled bed and scattered clothes in their untouched states, all served as standing monuments, giving mute testimony to the fact that they had once served a boy who'd once lived, but lived no more, save in the heart of his mother.

Jim wished that he had been able to search Andrew's room the previous day, but due to the exceedingly inconsiderate actions of a group of thugs who had begun a string of incidents involving the beating and robbing of tourists down in the waterfront district, he'd been called away to investigate the crimes and interview the victims – two of whom were hospitalized in serious condition. The detective had taken the interruption of his plans in stride; after all, this was the nature of police work. His skills were needed elsewhere immediately and so he went and did what he had to do with his usual thoroughness and bulldog tenacity, knowing that if the box of chocolates was indeed there in Andrew's room, it would be there the next morning as well.

When he'd arrived at work that morning, he'd gone in search of Joel to see if the quiet detective could make time to accompany him over to the McNair residence again. Joel had readily agreed, and despite the fact that Andrew's mother had preserved her son's room as if he'd never left, the portly detective had his doubts that they'd actually find the remnants of a two-year old box of possibly poisoned chocolates. He'd wisely kept his doubts to himself knowing that Jim had well-earned his reputation as the hard-ass detective with the extraordinary crime solve rate – even if he did occasionally hear his fellow brothers-in-arms talking in hushed tones about certain "funny" aspects of this or that case that Jim and his odd little partner had managed to solve.

Now the detectives set about the task of looking for a half-eaten box of chocolates, with Barbara McNair looking on skeptically. Though neither one could recall seeing a box of candy in the closet, the first place they looked was in the same location Detective Taggart had found Andrew's secret stash of Playboy magazines, just to be sure and thorough. As expected, the men came up empty. It was time to look elsewhere.

Though Joel had a corpulent frame, the big detective didn't hesitate to stretch his bulk out upon the floor and begin his search by looking underneath Andrew's bed with a flashlight. Busy with his task, the man didn't see Jim standing still in the middle of the room with his eyes closed.

Jim stood calm and relaxed, just as Blair had taught him to do, before ratcheting up his senses. _Ground yourself, Jim. Filter out all those smells and odors that aren't chocolate. Concentrate on finding the smell, and not so much on guessing where you think a teen might have hidden a box of contraband candy. _Jim heard the voice of his absent Guide as surely as if Blair were standing right next to him.

_Okay, Chief, if this box is here, I'm going to find it!_ Jim dialed up his sense of smell and began to inhale deeply through his nostrils. The Sentinel's hypersensitive receptors sought out the various odor molecules traveling through the air. Immediately, his olfactory nerve endings were bombarded with a cornucopia of life smells, emanating from a variety of sources in the boy's room. He began to turn ever so slowly to circle the room as he began to sift through the various layers of smell, cataloguing them, not stopping too long on any single one to reduce the chance of zoning out.

The aroma of residual cleaning chemicals, dry and acrid to Jim's senses, permeated the drapes that had been dry cleaned and re-hung some five months ago. His nose wrinkled and Jim narrowly avoided sneezing as he continued to filter through the plethora of additional smells, ranging from that of clean and never worn clothes, to odors from Andrew's pile of dirty, unwashed clothes in the dead boy's huge, walk-in closet.

The aromas emanating from well-worn sneakers, as well as the rich smell of leather of never-worn shoes warred with the scent of old toys, objects made from plastics and metal, and... something else. Jim sniffed at the new smell wafting its way up his nasal passages and quickly found its source. The cop as well as the Sentinel in Jim grimaced at the smell that was coming from a very small stash of weed tucked away in the heel of a balled up old sock.

By now, Joel had given up his fruitless search of the underside of Andrew's bed and was now taking curious notice of his partner's actions, while simultaneously moving his efforts to a new area. Out of the corner of his eye, Jim saw Joel looking his way. With a tilt of his head, he indicated for the large man to come over and have a look at what he'd uncovered. Joel ambled over and cracked a slight grin at what Jim was pointing towards. The pot was another one of Andrew's youthful indiscretions uncovered. Without words, Jim and Joel communicated their concurrence as to what should be done, thus Jim left the stash undisturbed as before.

Joel stood with his hands in his jacket pockets, looking for all the world like he was resigned to an unsuccessful outcome. But that was appearances only. Jim's temporary partner could not have said why – he certainly didn't know about Jim's extraordinary sensory abilities, but he knew without consciously knowing that it wasn't over until Jim said it was. Judging by the bloodhound look on Jim's face, things were far from over. Joel quietly moved out from the closet doorframe to let the senior detective out past him.

Jim walked out, and once again, stood in the center of the room. Ellison no longer saw Joel, even though he walked right past the rotund man. The phantom voice Ellison heard, the face he saw belonged to another, in a different time, in a different place.

"_Hey, Blair have you seen that Lotto ticket I bought last night?" _

"_Me?" Blair looked up from his book in surprise, his long curly hair framing his face like a halo. "No, man, where'd you leave it last?" he'd asked innocently, blue eyes wide. _

_Jim looked around in mild frustration. "If I knew that, I'd know where I left it, and then I'd have it now, wouldn't I?"_

_Jim kept looking, lifting papers, moving objects fruitlessly. "I looked everywhere for that ticket – I was gonna check the numbers in the paper." _

_Blair shrugged. "I know one thing for sure, Jim."_

"_What's that, Chief?"_

_Blair's wry grin preceded his next words, "Well, you didn't look __**everywhere**__ 'cause you didn't look in the place where it is." _

The incident with the misplaced ticket came unbidden to Jim's mind. His offbeat roommate had been annoyingly, logically right.

Clearly then, he hadn't looked in the place where the box of candy was, if it was there at all. He couldn't say how he knew, but his own innate sixth sense told him it was. So where had he not looked? His gaze drifted around the room, and the crystalline, glacier blue eyes came to rest on an object hanging at eye-level, above Andrew's bed. It was a vintage acoustic guitar, long ago separated from its strings. Jim stepped up close to the decoration, then closer still until he inhaled the scent of fine-grained spruce and rich mahogany mingling over a faint scent of something that smelled like - like cocoa butter and chocolate!

Jim immediately put on a pair of rubber gloves and gestured for Joel to bring over a plastic evidence bag. Then he reached up and put his hand as far as he could into the guitar's sound hole – and pulled out a small box of Hungarian-made chocolates. The weight of the box instantly told Jim that some contents remained. Elated, the detective held the box aloft triumphantly.

Ellison was too relieved to note the almost comical expression on Joel's face. Upon seeing Jim effortlessly pull the box out the guitar, the big man's mouth gaped open as if overcome by the weight of his jaw. Joel quickly closed his mouth and rushed over with the bag. "I don't believe you man, I just don't believe it," Joel's voice trailed off. "You just walked right up to it like you knew it was there! How'd you know, Jim? How?"

Jim shrugged casually. "We looked everywhere but where it was. That's all, Joel."

Hours later, a slightly harried Serena Chang from Cascade PD Forensics opened the door to the lab and called out to the detective pacing outside like some stalking beast. "Well?" Jim pressed with neither ceremony nor patience.

Serena put her hands in her white lab coat pockets and leaned wearily with her back against the wall. It was lucky for Jim that Serena actually likedhim. She was a real professional who understood that sometimes, detectives just hadto have the answers right away. When she was new and making her way up the promotional ranks at the police department, she'd had plenty of experience dealing with cops who were used to demanding answers in rude and overbearing ways. She'd quickly learned the fine art of effectively halting that kind of behavior in its tracks and she refused to take any crap from anyone.

"The remaining chocolates all tested positive for enough trace elements of arsenic to conclude that if all were consumed, there'd have been enough to kill or make a person seriously ill. I understand the victim in this case was an ill child with a defective heart. Out of the box of twenty-four candies, fourteen were missing. I presume your victim ate them."

"I'm afraid so," Jim grimly replied. "Could I get a copy of that report, Serena?"

"Of course. Be just a minute." Serena went back into her office inside the lab and put the finishing touches to her report before making a copy and passing it off to the detective.

It was well after 6 pm, but Jim was certain that Simon would still be behind his desk working. Armed with all of the evidence that linked Alize to not one, but three murders, Jim immediately went up to see his boss to get the ball rolling on obtaining an arrest warrant for the serial killer.

Simon chewed the end of his cigar and remarked gruffly, "It's all pretty circumstantial, Jim."

"This woman has killed three times Simon, I know it. The evidence may be circumstantial, but it's good enough for an arrest warrant **and**a conviction. Alize poisoned her first wealthy husband back in Hungary because she didn't need him anymore for the ride up to international model superstar. She murdered a fourteen-year-old boy because she couldn't get his rich father to leave his family and marry her. She poisoned her latest rich husband so she could have his money! Are we starting to see a pattern here, Sir?" Jim exclaimed passionately.

Simon looked up at Jim sharply, his warm brown eyes taking on a decidedly piercing appearance, dividing truth from B.S. "You're rather personally spun up about this, aren't you, Jim? What's really going on here?"

Jim's posture stiffened for a moment before he allowed his body to relax as he mentally conceded that Simon was right. Something was off, but he had no idea what. He'd had no weird dreams, no unexplained occurrences to serve as warnings of imminent disaster. He'd gotten the break he needed to solve the case, courtesy of his enhanced senses. He'd get his warrant for Alize's arrest – he had enough evidence to convince a judge that there was probable cause to believe that the woman had murdered three people. On the personal side, he'd recently spoken to Blair and all was well. Besides, tomorrow was Christmas Eve and his young roommate would be back then.

Simon, perceiving a change in Jim, moved on without waiting for a response. "You'll get your arrest warrant, Jim. Do you want to do this thing now or wait until the morning?"

Jim's lips curved up slightly. "Tomorrow's Christmas Eve, Captain. I don't know about you, but for once I'm glad I have better things to do than go out and try to snatch up Alize."

"So you say, Jim." This time it was Simon's mouth that turned up in a slight grin. "What time did you say Sandburg would be back?"

"Five o'clock, Sir. Feel free to come by earlier."

Simon nodded his head and lifted his coffee mug to his lips. "I'll call the DA's office right now and get things moving. You and Joel go and get your warrant, and I'll see you and the kid tomorrow."

Jim was out of the office before Simon's mug touched the desk again.

The arrest of Alize Szabo McNair Anderson was accomplished with the former model indulging in all of the dramatic display of a wronged celebrity diva, complete with demands for her lawyer and a stinging slap to Jim's face. Joel looked on with a look of pure disgust on his full face.

"You incompetent fools!" Alize snarled as her painted red lips bared her super-white teeth. "I'll have your badges for false arrest!"

Jim never batted an eye as he coolly added an assault charge to the list of offenses before cinching the handcuffs on her and reading her her rights. Then the detectives handed the perpetually manicured and coiffed woman off to the two uniformed officers who had met them at the residence.

Ellison stood still a minute in the wake of her departure, rubbing his face gently where red marks remained from Alize's handprint.

"You okay, Jim?" Taggart asked.

The other turned ice-blue eyes on Joel. A member of **his**tribe had been ruthlessly cut down, a young, defenseless boy. Now his death would be avenged. "I'm fine, Joel. Just fine."

Simon Banks paced the small interior of interrogation room number six while waiting for Jim and his number one murder suspect to arrive from booking. For some hours now, he'd wanted nothing more than to get the sorry affair over with so he could go home, eat, and fall into a dreamless sleep. A hopeful look crossed his dark face when, moments later, he heard the sound of approaching footsteps, one of which was the distinct sound of high-heels clicking on the wood floor.

The door swung open and a burly booking officer, with the suspect in tow, entered the room, followed by Detective Ellison and a no-nonsense looking middle-aged woman. Her crisp gray suit spoke clearly of her status as a 'high-priced lawyer' and the Major Crime captain couldn't resist wondering at the speed in which Alize must have lawyered up.

"Nice of you all to join the party," Simon said as he eyed the suspect with a great deal of curiosity.

"We won't be staying long, Captain… uh…" the expensive-looking lawyer fished for the name.

"Banks," Simon smoothly supplied. "And you are?"

"I'm Maxine Driver, and I'll be representing Mrs. Anderson. Why don't you start by telling me what this is about so I can get onto the business of arranging bail for my client."

"Let's start by talking about how your client murdered a 14-year-old boy," Jim replied harshly.

Before Maxine Driver could respond, the door to the interrogation room opened and the large frame of Joel Taggart appeared in the opening. Joel firmly beckoned Jim to step outside. Something was up. Jim respected the other detective and knew that Joel would not come looking for him in the middle of an interrogation unless it was an urgent matter. He had no idea what it was, but he swallowed his natural urge to snap an impatient response in his eagerness to get back in the room.

The big man was clearly excited about something. His brown eyes were sparkling and he couldn't quite suppress the urge to break out in a wide grin. "Santa may be a day or two earlier, Ellison, 'cause he just delivered a gift-wrapped present with your name on it!"

Puzzled, Jim frowned. "What are you talking about, Joel?"

"You are not gonna believe this, but I'm talking about an eye-witness – the person who supplied Alize with the arsenic!"

"You're kidding, right?"

Solemnity settled upon Taggart. "No way. Would I kid you about something like that?

"Tell me," Jim responded.

"One hour ago, there was a huge bust by Narcotics. They had a sting operation that went down, involving some major sellers and distributors of cocaine. One of the fish that got caught in the net was a small-time distributor by the name of Harvey Steiner. Turns out Harvey liked to sample the goods from time to time and developed his own little habit." Joel shook his head at the stupidity of it all before continuing.

"According to Detectives Schmall and Bruner, Steiner started babbling right away about making a deal in consideration for some info he had on the death of a person he recently heard about on the radio. Now here's the good part, Jim – up until a month ago, Steiner was employed at HealthTech Pharmaceuticals as a chemist. He met Alize one of the few times she was there. He didn't know why, but every time she'd come there, she'd behave particularly friendly towards him. It got to the point where one day she was 'lending' him money. In actuality, she was working up to the day when she asked him to obtain some arsenic for her. The son of a bitch stole arsenic and gave it to Alize so she could poison her husband!"

An eyewitness – and one who couldn't possibly know what Mr. Anderson had died of unless what he'd said was true. The case was no longer built purely on circumstantial evidence. It didn't get better than that. Jim clapped Joel on the back in congratulations. "I'll be damned," Ellison responded in an appreciative tone, "there really **is**a Santa Claus!"

Three and half hours later, in the presence of the DA and her attorney, Alize confessed to the murder of her husband, Neil Anderson, but refused to discuss either her first husband's murder back in Hungary, or that of Andrew McNair.

Simon silently breathed a satisfied sigh at knowing that Alize was guaranteed to go down for at least one of the murders. Jim, on the other hand, couldn't help but fume knowing that there was still a chance that after a trial, Alize might escape responsibility for the killing of young Andrew.

"You and Joel did everything that could be done, Jim." Simon voiced conciliatory words as if he'd read his detective's mind. "She's going in a cage for a long time and God willing, she'll never hurt another person as long as she lives."

Jim nodded at the truth of his boss's words. He and Joel had solved the case, and Alize was almost assuredly going away for murder. Mentally, Jim acknowledged Blair's part in bringing about that outcome. Ever since Jim had met Sandburg, he had, with great patience and unbridled enthusiasm, taught Jim the skills necessary to harness his incredible talent to aid him in performing his job. The younger man had given him both the will and the courage to embrace his gifts. His deeply ingrained need for justice temporarily satisfied, Jim wished Joel a Merry Christmas and then bade him and Simon good-bye before heading home at last to start his holiday break.

That night, Jim slipped effortlessly into a deep sleep, but it was not a dreamless slumber. In the darkest heart of the night, the Sentinel dreamt of fire, ice, and a mournful howl of a wolf in pain.

When morning came, he recalled nothing of it.


	5. Chapter 5

**Thank you so much for any and all reviews. Here is another chapter. Fasten yer seatbelts, Readers, there be treacherous waters ahead!**

* * *

Blair was fiddling with the radio station dial, trying vainly to get a station that would not fade in and out. Montana and the early morning farewell to Naomi were already a distant memory for the young man. Not very long ago, the two travelers had traversed Idaho into Washington State. There was still nearly 300 miles left until they reached Cascade, but Blair was confident that he'd arrive back home fairly close to 5 pm.

It was nearing 12:30 pm and it seemed to him that the sky was looking more and more like an impending snowfall, despite the fact that the weather forecasters had all predicted dry, clear, but cold weather. Not that he was worried about a little snow, should it come. His SUV came equipped with four-wheel drive and he was a good driver. He really had no concerns about safety. Instead, his overwhelming thoughts were of quickly dropping off Emily to her home and getting back to the loft and his best friend so that they could enjoy Christmas Eve together as he'd promised they would.

Sandburg glanced over at Emily. She was still sound asleep and he noted with satisfaction how the peaceful look on her face bore testimony to her relaxed state. His stomach rumbled as the hunger pains he had managed to soothe with a granola bar about an hour ago reasserted themselves.

"Ah, perfect timing!" Blair exclaimed when at last he saw his passenger begin to stir from her slumber. Sleepy eyes opened and regarded him with a warm expression. Sandburg smiled. "I'm thinking the three of us could really use something to eat right now, and I don't mean granola bars."

Emily came fully awake then and struggled to sit up straight under the bulk of her pregnancy. Blair caught the look of dismay that crossed his companion's face when he'd mentioned his intentions to stop at another roadside eatery. Naturally, the young man perceived the source of her disquiet and his next words were intended to reassure the tense woman. "We won't stay and eat. We'll just order up something quick and easy, and take it with us. Okay?"

"All right," Emily replied rather sheepishly, and avoided looking into Blair's earnest blue eyes in the process. Sandburg deftly steered the car into a parking space, close to the entrance of the little burger joint. He cut the engine and came around to assist his passenger down from the SUV.

The two travelers entered the greasy spoon and immediately, the aroma of cooking French fries and burgers on the grill set Blair's mouth to watering. Though not his normal fare of choice, he was famished enough to scarf down whatever the heart attack special was. So intent was he on studying the menu that he barely noticed that Emily's face was starting to turn a sickly shade of green – but still, he didnotice. The young Anthropologist grimaced in sympathy as he watched Emily suddenly clap a hand over her mouth and run in the direction of the restrooms.

When it was his turn to order, Blair asked for a grilled chicken sandwich and fries for himself, and a garden salad and fruit smoothie for his pregnant charge. Initially he'd asked for the food to go, but suddenly the idea of forcing a nauseated, pregnant woman to ride in his rental vehicle with the stench of oily fries and a greasy burger permeating the air of the enclosed space, did not seem like a good idea. With a wry grin, he'd switched the order to 'dining in'.

The food was ready in short order and the famished police observer took the tray burdened with its meals of dubious consumability and sat down at the nearest table. He was well on the way to having consumed half his food when Emily finally emerged from the restroom, looking better, but slightly embarrassed. Blair's companion sat down heavily and stared disinterestedly at the food that he had selected for her. "Sorry about that," Emily muttered, her face flushed with embarrassment.

"No apology's necessary," Blair replied sincerely. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine – and thank you for this." Emily indicated the food with a wave of her hand. "I'll pay you back, I promise."

Blair just laughed. "This is nothing compared to the meal that Jim and I are going to fix for you and your husband once the baby comes."

The pregnant woman looked up at her rescuer with interest, glad to have a conversation topic that would to turn the spotlight away from herself. "Who's Jim?" she inquired.

The blue eyes sparkled with an inner joy. "Detective James Ellison. Jim for short. He's my roommate, my best friend, and the best darn detective in the entire city of Cascade. Oh, and he's also kind of like the big brother I didn't have when I was growing up – you know – he's a great guy but he can be an over-protective pain sometimes." Emily smiled at her rescuer's pronouncement. There was no mistaking the genuine affection that accompanied that description of the relationship.

Minutes later, the two rose from the table. Emily dumped their trash while Blair ordered a cup of coffee to go. In short order, the two headed back to the SUV for the remainder of the long haul. For the next hour or so, Blair entertained his guest with tales of his travels to exotic places, the unusual people he'd met along the way, and his untraditional upbringing. The stranded woman found his voice soothing and she was intrigued by the cerulean eyes that shone with constant humor and good will. Indeed, those eyes were uncluttered windows to the bright, resilient soul within; a soul that had seen much and learned to embrace that which was good and unique in the world. And however bright those eyes shone when they spoke of adventures and remarkable acquaintances, those eyes never shone as brightly as when the topic was one Jim Ellison.

Blair chattered away about his position as a grad student and as Jim's unofficial police partner. Then there was a natural lull in the conversation and Emily, curious, ventured forth a question: "So tell me, Blair. How is it that you came to live with Detective Ellison?"

Sandburg grinned, "Well, that's a story! See, I was living in this really big warehouse. The rent was cheap, I had all that room." He laughed softly. I thought I had it good – it was like the ultimate poor grad student's bachelor pad, ya know?"

Emily grinned back. "I think I know what you mean. So, what happened?"

Sandburg's mood turned serious at the memory that had never quite lost its power to horrify him in the wake of how close both he and Jim had come to being killed in the warehouse, and the subsequent loss of most of his personal belongings. Blair cleared his throat and pushed a loose curl back behind his ear. "There was an explosion and I lost nearly everything, including my life. I had no idea, but some people were operating a drug lab in the second story of the same warehouse I was living in." He laughed grimly. "I guess they needed a better chemist."

Not wanting to explain too much, he deliberately left out the fact that Jim had been there too, and it was only through the use of his enhanced senses that he'd acted quickly enough to spare them both from being killed or seriously injured. Sandburg visibly brightened then. "Every cloud has a silver lining they say and mine was that when my back was up against the wall, Jim was there. I needed a place to live and had almost nothing to my name, and he let me move in with him."

Blair glanced over at his pregnant passenger and was startled to see a morose, stressed look on her face, as if something he'd said had recalled to mind some unhappy circumstance. "Did I say something wrong?" he asked, concerned.

A sigh escaped from Emily's lips as she rubbed her stomach distractedly. "You didn't say anything wrong, Blair. I just…" She paused and appeared to be arranging her thoughts. "Things are kind of hard right now for me and my husband, Ed. Ed is an elementary school science teacher – at least he was until last year when he was laid off from his job," she clarified. There was bitterness seeping out around the edges of her tone. "We had just bought our first house six months before. Things were going so well back then, I had a little store in the mall – it was my first real business, you know." Clearly upset, Emily stopped speaking.

"What happened?" Sandburg gently prodded while keeping his eyes on the road.

"The mall owners doubled the rent after my contract ran out. Business slowed to a crawl and I couldn't pay the new amount. We ate through our savings after Ed's unemployment ran out and he couldn't get another teaching position. Ed's been working odd jobs and we've barely managed to hang on to our house."

"This can't be easy for you guys with a little one on the way."

Emily's face lit up, obviously from an inner joy. "It doesn't matter. Ed and I tried so hard for the first eight years we were married to have a baby. We'd almost given up." The woman sighed at the painful memory. "The specialists all said the only way I would be able to conceive would be by artificial means. Even with help, it took a long time for me to get pregnant. When we finally did, we were so ecstatic." Emily stared out the window. "We lost two babies and after that????Well, I said to Ed, enough is enough. I can't go through this again. We left the clinic and never went back. And now look at me. Surprise!" The joyous look returned to Emily's face as she patted her belly.

"And look at you," Blair echoed with a grin. "So may I ask how you came to be stuck in Idaho?"

"We had gotten word from the hospital that my mother had a massive stroke. I took the only car we had and practically flew up there. Unfortunately, my mother died before I could get there."

"I'm so sorry for your loss," Blair said simply and sincerely. He had shaken his head upon hearing his passenger's tale of woe. He wasn't even surprised to feel the anger he'd felt at how badly the truckers had treated the pregnant woman rising in him once again. Sandburg gripped the wheel just a tad bit harder, pressed the accelerator a bit farther, and like the fading daylight, the car sped down the high mountain pass.

**The Loft**

He positively hated it whenever Jim did that. Captain Simon Banks stood outside the door of apartment 307 at 852 Prospect Street. His cigar was hanging from his mouth, his left hand balanced gift bags and a tray of food. In vain, the other hand was poised to strike the wooden door, which had sprung open without warning. His best detective stood in the doorway, grinning at the well-worn joke and looking nervous. Naturally, Simon knew that Jim, with his enhanced senses, had no problem discerning his presence at the door without him having to first knock. The pungent smell of his cigars was something that Ellison could easily detect even when he was still in the elevator down the hall. That didn't mean he had to get used to feeling like a fool as he was left standing in front of the door whenever Jim chose to open it before he could knock.

Simon harrumphed grumpily and debated the merits of changing his plans from spending Christmas Eve with Ellison and Sandburg, to spending it in the pleasure of his own company.

Having read his boss's dark look accurately, Jim skillfully took the decision out of Simon's hands when he relieved him of both gift bags and the tray filled with gourmet finger foods, and put them away.

Jim hurried back to Simon's side. "May I take your coat, Sir?"

Simon took off his London Fog trench coat and handed it over to Jim as he stood looking in admiration at the transformation that had taken place in the interior. He was impressed with just how tasteful and festive it was for a bachelor's pad. Jim himself was casually dressed in slacks and a sweater.

"Something to drink, Sir?" Jim oversolicitously inquired.

Simon's upper lip curled slightly up in amusement. His best detective didn't just look nervous – he **was **nervous. _This will never do,_ his conscience and good sense told him. He had no deSire anyway to spend an awkward Christmas Eve, making uncomfortable small talk with a man he both liked and respected. "Jim, can we dispense with the Sir bit? I'm just here to hang out with you guys and judging by the surprisingly tastefulness of the decor, I'm going to be celebrating the holiday with you and Sandburg in style. In other words," he continued, "Simon will do just fine."

Ellison looked relieved. Simon observed how Jim's posture changed and he assumed a more relaxed air. "That's fine with me... Simon."

Simon proceeded to serve himself a drink and make himself at home on the couch while Jim went into the kitchen where he busied himself with food preparations. "So, speaking of Sandburg, I take it from the quiet around here that he's not back yet?"

Jim shook his head. "He should be here, oh, in about an hour or so."

"You talked to him?"

"No. When I called to touch base with him this morning, he'd already checked out of the lodge and so had Naomi. I tried his cell, but there's just no getting a signal up there in the mountains."

"He'll be here soon enough, Jim. In the meantime, let's just savor the tranquility while we can, shall we?" Simon's warm, chocolate eyes sparkled with good humor, though he was only half-kidding.

Jim conceded the point."Stay right there, Simon." Jim turned and went up the stairs leading to his loft bedroom. A second later he started back down the stairs, this time with a chess set in his hands. "Care to be taken to school on this?" Ellison threw out the challenge to his boss, which Simon, interpreted as Jim's desire to enjoy a few relaxing games before Blair arrived home.

Simon laughed incredulously at his host. "School's in – and I'm the teacher." He leaned back and a wide, toothy, white grin graced his face.

*******

_Fate, which had been benignly idle far too long, stirred. Seeking to relieve her boredom, she set in motion that which would amuse her._

******

"Drop kick me, Jesus, through the Heavenly doors...." Billy "Scooter" Jackson was as tone deaf as the day he was born, but he never let that deficiency get in the way of howling loudly along to one of his all-time favorite country-western tunes currently blaring on his eight-track player. He hadn't heard that one in a long time, and as the weary, long-haul driver steered his full-to-capacity gas tanker up the mountain, he cranked the song up along with the tanker cab's heater.

Scooter was quite the happy trucker. He'd stockpiled his favorite brand of chew for the job, he had his favorite country music, he was warm and most of all, he didn't have to listen to the constant nagging of his toothless wife, Gertrude. He wasn't concerned about the snowstorm his CB buddies had warned him was brewing; he had time to reach his stop-over place before any significant snow started falling. So into his creature comforts was he that Scooter Jackson was oblivious to the initial innocuous mist of fine rock particles that had begun filtering down from above until the fine mist rapidly turned into a shower of rock and dirt pouring down on the tanker's windshield. Because the music was blasting so loudly within the confines of the enclosed cab, Scooter felt rather than heard a deep rumbling. The startled trucker gripped the wheel tighter and looked nervously around, but saw nothing but the front of an approaching Ford Expedition heading towards him in the opposite lane.

Suddenly, small size rocks began to skitter across the other lane and into his. The rumbling grew steadier with malevolent intensity. Larger rocks came rolling down the high towering mountain walls; some rolled out past the approaching tanker, still others struck the sides and front as Scooter kept his foot on the accelerator of the big rig and fought the urge to dodge the tide of falling rocks. Forty-five seconds after the initial downpour of rock and dirt, a horrific volley of large boulders the size of elephants came tumbling down the mountain side, hurling death and destruction to anyone and anything in its path. Terrified, now Scooter was operating on pure instinct when he tried desperately to evade the crashing boulders without losing control and causing the tanker to fishtail and eventually jackknife.

The last vestiges of daylight fled the purple sky as the air became thick with swirling, choking clouds of dirt, rock particles, and other debris. The hapless trucker could hardly see in front of him now – not the approaching car, not the largest size boulder yet, that rolled with deadly, unerring accuracy towards the tanker. There was no time for pain, fear or panicked good-byes from Scooter when the boulder struck the cab. The enormous boulder plowed into the side of the cab with such force that it separated from the gas-filled tanker, rolled over it, crushing steel and metal until the blood, flesh, and bone of the human within meshed into a gruesome mixture that could not be separated easily.

The tanker, brutally severed from the cab, continued moving. Totally out of control, the rear of the tanker shuddered and swung around until, like a dangerous missile, it careened sideways across both lanes of traffic. Rocks of every size and shape continued to rain down, noisily crashing and tumbling in the road with horrific speed. The tanker's independent journey came to a violent, final end when it flipped over some boulders and landed with such force on a particularly high-jutting one as to puncture a large hole straight through the metal hull. Exactly 90 seconds after first shower of dirt and rocks started falling, the ill-fated tanker with its several thousand gallons of fuel exploded in a brilliant, red-hot fireball of hell.

******

Earlier, when Billy "Scooter" Jackson began driving his rig up the mountain and unknowingly to his doom, Blair and his pregnant passenger were heading down the mountain. "Man, is this beautiful!" Blair said aloud for the second time since he'd started the trek down the elevated pass. His comment went unheard since Emily was leaning back in her seat, head tilted against the door, snoozing again. Blair smiled and went back to enjoying the spectacular sunset.

Later, the sun had set completely and the moonlit, nighttime view from the mountain pass was magnificent. On one side rose the high-towering rocky walls and on the other, steep embankments and in some areas, sheer cliffs lined the drive. Signs periodically placed along the way warned of the potential for rockslides, but the young anthropologist was not concerned; he saw only nature's creative beauty as evergreens and other trees jutted out and over huge boulders like an abstract sculpture. Even with his fear of heights, and knowing that nothing more than a fragile guardrail separated him from some of the steepest ravines he'd ever seen, he'd still admired the fantastic, expansive view.

Blair saw the approaching tanker truck and mentally prepared for the two vehicles to pass each other. His mind automatically noted it, simultaneously tracking the lumbering tanker with his eyes while thinking of something else in the typical way drivers process information.

There was no warning of the horror that was about to engulf them. No unexplained psychic feeling of impending doom to give notice that the perfect union of man-made highway and nature's majestic beauty was about to morph into a nightmare scene of fire, death and destruction. Suddenly, a fine spray of dirt and pebbles began to rain down upon the Expedition's windshield and an eerie rumbling noise erupted, spread out and got louder. "What the heck?" Startled, Blair leaned over the steering wheel and looked up and to the side. Then his gaze snapped forward and what he saw made his face drain of all color and his heartbeat race wildly with surprise, shock and horror as he desperately began pumping the brakes. In seconds, huge quantities of rocks of all size and shape were rolling, sliding, crashing down the mountainside with amazing speed. Enormous boulders were hurled through the air, landing with pavement-cracking force, carving jagged craters deep into the road.

Emily, who had been propelled violently out of her nap, let out a mindless, high-pitched scream of pure terror. Blair didn't look at her – his eyes were riveted on the approaching tanker, which was now less than 30 yards away. His mind screamed, _Oh my God_! in soundless horror at the sight unfolding before him. He'd had only one moment to glimpse the terrified face of the man behind the wheel before a gigantic boulder slammed into the side of the cab, sheering it from the tanker and flattening it into a pancake of human gore and metal. Bereft of the cab's control, the tanker kept moving like a chicken whose head had been severed from its body. The deadly missile was now turning sideways and closing the gap between it and the Expedition.

Twenty-five yards.

For Blair, time seemed to momentarily hang in suspension before the world began to slow down and move in silent, slow motion.

Twenty yards.

Sandburg, eyes impossibly wide with terror, watched the kaleidoscope of colors, sound, and movement until the picture coalesced into the tanker flipping in the air and exploding upon impact upon a sharp boulder. Red-hot heat saturated with the sickening smell of burning gasoline spread out and upward in an oppressive wave. Smoke and fire turned the area into a sweltering, deadly inferno, and the vision of it was all Blair could see, taste and smell.

Less than twenty yards and the burning tanker was still closing in. There was no time to stop, no chance that the flames would die out before the SUV reached them. Blair realized with a certainty that he and Emily would be engulfed in the flames and be burned alive, stripped of their charred flesh until nothing remained but smoking ashes. Blair's hands looked bloodless and white as he unconsciously held the wheel with a death grip. Two choices remained: either leave the road or drive into the fire. Sandburg, running purely on instinct wrenched the wheel towards the left and closed his eyes tightly as the car tore through what remained of the broken guardrail.

The police observer barely registered Emily Kojack's panicked screams as the Expedition became airborne before beginning its wild, bone-crushing descent down the steep embankment. Glass shattered, the roof caved in as parts flew off the vehicle and the metal structure compacted, squeezing and cutting the two helpless occupants inside. The SUV rolled over and would keep rolling over in a terrifying journey before it would finally come to a stop some 85 feet below. Searing pain ripped through Blair's torn and bruised body, and in his terror, he cried aloud for the one thing in his entire life that had ever meant unconditional safety, warmth, and steadfast friendship before he was flung headlong into darkness: _Jimmmmm!_


	6. Chapter 6

*******

When the mangled pile of steel and metal came at last to rest under a growth of bushes, the two people within were unconscious, still strapped to their seats and hanging upside down, blood dripping down from various places. Many feet above Blair and Emily, the decapitated tanker had at last come to a stop. It was still ablaze, though the flames were not as spectacularly high as before. It was a macabre scene. Boulders were strewn across the broken highway, looking for all the world like toy marbles, abandoned by giants. The enormous rocks, uprooted trees, and loose dirt blocked the road from both sides. Somewhere amongst the carnage, Scooter's shattered cab served as a temporary tomb for his crushed remains. For Blair and Emily, there was nothing to mark their passage along the doomed route. There was no sign that an SUV carrying a bright young grad student and a pregnant woman had ever been there at all.

*******

"Checkmate!" Simon sneered in good-hearted triumph while Ellison groaned aloud in mock despair.

"This calls for another beer. How 'bout you, Simon?"

"Sure, and while you're at it, bring one of those trays of hors d'oeuvres over here – I'm starving to death waiting for your roommate to show up." Simon's voice was light, but it didn't quite mask his real impatience for Sandburg to arrive home so they could eat. The Major Crime boss hadn't eaten all day and his stomach was busy reminding him of that fact.

The Sentinel gladly carried over two beers and a tray of meat and cheese; after all, he was a man with an appetite too. Then Jim looked at the clock and noted that Blair was an hour past due. "He'll be here, Simon. He gave his word and I have absolute assurance in that – besides, I know Blair left the Montana resort this morning exactly as he'd said he would."

*******

The sounds of someone moaning in pain brought Blair back to consciousness. It was a while before his confused mind registered that the someone was him, and that he was squashed uncomfortably, hanging upside down. Next to him, he saw Emily. She too was held in place by the belt across her lap, but her upper body lay twisted and loose due to the fact that she hadn't worn the shoulder strap, claiming it was too uncomfortable to wear in her condition. Blood was dripping out of her mouth, splashing fat droplets on the ground below.

"Emily! Oh God, Emily!" Blair wheezed out as he tried with ever increasing panic to find the seat buckle and undo it. The image of the exploding tanker was etched into his mind, and he was very near hysteria as he pictured the Expedition doing the same. A seedling of rationality took hold when he realized he could smell no gasoline coming from their crushed SUV. He calmed himself and forced his hand to resume its task of undoing the seatbelt.

When at last he did, he braced himself for his body to fall unsupported onto what was left of the roof of the car. The young man hissed in pain when he thumped to the bottom and an intense pain flared up his right hip down to his foot. Rich, red blood was gushing out from a deep laceration in his calf and the muscle was starting to spasm painfully. A sick feeling hit the pit of his stomach, and he clamped down tight to keep from vomiting all over himself in the enclosed space.

Emily looked bad, and he knew he had to get her down and see to her as quickly as possible. He also had enough experience with first aid to know that before he could really help the woman, he had to stop the bleeding in his leg before he went into shock and lost consciousness. Desperate to find something to serve as a bandage, he removed his outer flannel shirt and began to bind it tightly around the gaping wound. He groaned aloud with the agony the movement cost him. Though he still had on a turtleneck shirt over his long johns, he was cold and the temperature was dropping drastically. Blair desperately hoped that he would be able to find his coat or at least his duffel bag with his dirty clothes.

The driver's side door was crushed in and incapable of being opened. He needed to find another way out and it looked like there was a wide enough gap torn near the rear gate to allow him to squeeze by. Sandburg felt like an old man as he painfully crawled over and around the twisted car parts to reach what had been the back of the vehicle. Blair nearly wept aloud with relief when he spied his coat in the back as he crawled. The coat was crumpled up, torn and dirty, but he didn't care in the least. It was something warm to put on, and it comforted him as he made his way outside to the front passenger door.

Emily's door was completely mangled into a useless hunk of twisted scrap metal hanging precariously from the Expedition's severely bent frame. Inside the car, Emily began to stir and whimper softly as Blair struggled to unhook her belt and ease the obviously badly injured woman to the ground. "Easy. I got you." Blair's mind was wracked with fear, but he tried to project comfort and confidence as he gently assessed her injuries as best he could. His heart despaired at the damage he saw and he didn't notice that her dress was wet. Suddenly, terrorized green eyes popped open and Emily let loose a volley of red blood from her mouth as she lay trembling outside of the twisted heap of wreckage. Blair wiped the blood away from her lips and quickly shook out of the coat he had just put on, placing it over the shivering woman. "Emily, I need to try and find my cell phone and call for help." The fact that the chances of getting a signal out here were slim to none, he kept to himself.

Emily's head was moving from side to side as she clutched her stomach in pain. Her wide eyes spoke eloquently of her panic and desperation for she realized what was happening: she was going into labor and she was fast weakening. "No..." she moaned in a voice full of anguish at the thought that she might perish and very well take her unborn child with her. "Blair," she gasped out, "the baby's coming. No..." She moaned again, clutching Blair's hand desperately.

It was too much! Too much! Emily was seriously injured and Blair had no idea how to help her. Now she was going into labor – a feat that could very well seal her fate as well as the child's. Naturally, Blair knew the rudimentaries of how to deliver a baby, but that knowledge was based on TV shows and the rare birthing documentaries he'd watched occasionally. To actually have to deliver a baby was something else entirely. Not even the time when he witnessed a live birth at the age of ten when a woman at the commune gave birth openly in a 'birthing circle' could prepare him for what he alone must do now.

Blair, who'd had plenty of experience undressing the female form, blushed furiously at the task of removing a married woman's underwear and positioning her lower limbs for access to her opening. The young man had to do everything for her for Emily did not have the strength to do it herself. She was too badly injured and getting ever weaker as she fought to both hold on to her life, and bring the one she had inside her into the world.

The sickening realization hit Blair like a freight train: If Emily, in her weakened state, died before she could push the infant out, he would be faced with a gruesome and morally reprehensible choice: would he cut the child out of Emily's dead body in a grisly operation for which he was wholly untrained to perform, or would he do nothing, conceding defeat, thus allowing the child to perish with its mother? Sandburg knew how much that baby meant to Emily. He knew how much she loved the baby's father and how the couple had struggled emotionally and financially to conceive the child. If Emily died, then the baby would be all that Emily's husband, Ed, had left. Blair closed his eyes in despair. He knew what he **must**do, but he wondered, **could**he do it? Blair shoved the thought aside as he vowed to do everything in his power to keep both mother and baby alive. Already he could see the top of the baby's head just beginning to crown, and a fresh wave of fear and doubt nearly overwhelmed him.

Too weak to scream, Emily thrashed feebly and panted with shallow breaths. Her eyes held a glazed far-away look in them and Blair knew if he didn't do something fast, she wouldn't be able to hold on much longer through the ever-increasing agony of both her injuries and the labor. "Emily!" Blair yelled. He urgently put his face close to hers for a minute and found himself staring into eyes that were deep wells of endless suffering. "Emily, stay with me! You gotta do this, your baby needs you to push it into the world."

Not much time had passed, but now the contractions were rolling in like powerful, all-consuming waves of increasing intensity. It was during those times that the unmoving Emily became animated, moaning, eyes rolling like some crazed animal in pain. Blair babbled out nonsensical words of comfort before he resumed checking the baby's progress. Now the young grad student could see more of the baby's head. "Emily, I see the baby's head! Push!" The baby was coming fast, and Blair knew he'd need something to clean and wrap it in to keep it from freezing to death. Sandburg looked wildly about for Emily's coat, which she had taken off inside the warm car. There was no sign of it outside and with a low moan of pain, Blair staggered up and off to work his way into the twisted wreckage to find it.

He had to proceed carefully inside such a dangerous environment. Sharp, jagged pieces of shorn metal formed a deadly gauntlet – ready to cut into flesh already slick with blood. Broken plastic, electronic parts with ripped wires and shards of broken glass were everywhere. It hurt to have to twist and bend the way he was forced to in order to enter the wreckage, but he gritted his teeth and kept crawling forward, gingerly sifting through the debris until at last, he was rewarded for his efforts. He had found Emily's brown coat, and if he thought it looked ill-used before, it was now nothing more than a ripped up, blood-spattered rag. Nonetheless, Blair snatched it up with a trembling hand and began his painful crawl out of the wreckage and back to his patient's side.

When he reached Emily once again, he gave a half sigh of relief to find that she was still alive. He leaned over the stark-white, pained face again and spoke, "I'm back now, everything's going to be okay." Blair checked the baby's progress and nearly gasped aloud at what he saw. The infant's head had crowned completely. It was evident that birth was imminent – if only Emily could endure the labor just a bit longer.

Blair fought back against the rising tide of hysteria that was threatening to erupt at any minute from deep within. No way was he going to lose it now, not when Emily needed him so very badly. The injured Guide took a deep breath, as well as command of his emotions before quietly speaking. "Push. C'mon, push Emily. You're almost there."

The sound of Emily's long, drawn-out panting was a dreadful thing to hear. Each desperate inhalation was like a ghastly death rattle. The blood trickling from Emily's mouth was doing so at a heavier volume, and yet it did not obscure the meaning of the words the dying woman was soundlessly forming, even as her eyes began to glaze over.

Blair correctly lip-read her mouthed, "I can't," and responded immediately. Almost without thought the young man began screaming, "Don't you dare leave your baby! Don't do it! Now push!" The baby's head and shoulders emerged.

*******

Earlier, when Emily first regained consciousness, she had been nearly overcome with terror. Somewhere though, from deep within her, Emily found the strength to focus her gaze and comprehend what the young man above her was saying. She found his voice compelling in its earnest desperation. The blue eyes that looked down into hers were wide with anxiety, but even so, it did not stamp out the look of gentle determination in them. The exhausted woman used that gentle voice and those eyes as a tether to keep her soul in the world as she rested between contractions.

Nearly 30 minutes later, Emily heard a voice calling as if from afar, separated from her by time and space. Without knowing why, she knew she had the choice to ignore that insistent voice. What did that voice want anyway? She thought she once knew, but now it was a distant haze. She wondered why she should even care. She was in a better place now. The pain, which had been an all-consuming, red-hot taskmaster driving her to the very brink of insanity had faded, subsumed by a calm ocean of soothing blues and greens. _I'm going to let go now._

Suddenly, the urgent words penetrated her fog, making clear their meaning. The voice above her screaming at her not to leave her baby brought back clarity of purpose as well as a regrettable return of the previously abated agony. Emily pushed through it; her baby needed her to live!

Her vision cleared and she saw the young man, Blair, who had been so kind to her. His pale face was all eyes, enormous orbs of cobalt from which she was powerless to tear her gaze. His full lips parted and parted wider still before she heard the words, "Oh my God!" In a single instant, the features above transformed from the stressed mask they so resembled into a visage, which radiated an ecstasy and absolute reverence scarcely rivaled by the most devout, enraptured saint of old.

*******

One minute there were two souls amidst the wreckage, and then there were three. Emily Kojack had given birth to a beautiful baby girl with perfect tiny fingers and toes. Blair held the tiny, squalling infant girl in his arms, fresh from her mother's body and quickly acted to sever the umbilical cord with a sharp piece of broken glass he had earlier laid aside expressly for that purpose. He swiftly loosed his ponytail from the rubber band and taking it, he tied off the cord still attached to the baby.

Sandburg moved his achingly cold, stiff body with a speed he never imagined he would be capable of as he proceeded to wrap the baby in a cocoon of clothing consisting of first, a spare shirt, and then Emily's ragged, torn coat until nothing but her eyes showed.

Blair brought the baby over, and with one arm holding the wrapped living bundle, and the other around the dying woman's back, he assisted Emily to a more upright position. Sandburg's voice was gentle and still tinged with a hint of awe when he said, "You did it, Emily, you did it." Proudly, Blair showed the infant off and as he did so, he was conscious of the fact that there were tears streaming down his face. He didn't care though, he had witnessed a new life coming into the world, and he knew soon he would witness another's passing.

Emily's eyes which had been locked on his face, slowly drifted down to the bundle held in Blair's arm. A hint of a tiny smile appeared on the pallid, almost lucent face. Gently, Blair moved to place the baby in its mother's arms, keeping his own arms around both mother and baby for support.

One last thing. There was one last thing for Emily to do, and then Blair would ask nothing more of her ever while she remained in this world. "What's your daughter's name?" Sandburg softly asked. There was silence and for a moment, Blair despaired that Emily had slipped away. But when he looked again, Sandburg saw there was a startling clarity in the green eyes that were now staring, transfixed on the small life she held in her arms. The voice that issued forth the final gift of the name, came from a place of immeasurable strength and abiding love, so marked in contrast to the grim physical circumstances. Long after the arms fell away and the green eyes stared into eternity, the name, _Noel_,drifted across Blair's senses like a soft caress of wind.


	7. Chapter 7

LOL – I'm sooo sorry about the clicking on the wrong document to update here! Thank you readers for letting me know! LOL – good thing it wasn't a slashy steamy writing! : )

**Note: Thank you so much, Chiclete for your kindness it letting me know that you are enjoying reading **_**Noel**_**! Here is another chapter for you. : )**

Simon watched Jim pretending not to worry that his roommate had not arrived home, though he had been slated to appear more than 90 minutes ago. And while Jim was busy pretending to not look agitated, Simon had no such inclination to hide the fact that he was growing uneasy by Jim's behavior. Banks tried to reason with the pacing man. "Jim, look, I know Sandburg's a trouble magnet, but the kid said he'd be home Christmas Eve and he will. That doesn't mean that he didn't stop along the way or encounter a detour, or any number of logical reasons for why he's onlyan hour and a half late."

Jim continued pacing as if he'd not heard a word. Seeing how his reasoning skills had fallen short of the mark, Simon ruefully tried a different tack: "Why don't you try his cell again, Jim? If he's just a little late, chances are he's close enough for his cell to be in range for service." That statement seemed to penetrate Jim's agitation and he stopped pacing long enough to go into the kitchen to pick up the cordless phone. Meanwhile, Simon reached for the TV remote, hit the mute button and began flipping channels, hoping to find a program that would be interesting enough to serve as a distraction for Jim.

He'd already passed up several channel offerings when something caught Banks' eye. Evidently from the slew of patrol cruisers, fire trucks and ambulances, some part of the world had experienced a very deadly-looking disaster. With morbid curiosity, Simon stopped to check it out. It looked to the captain like nature's fury had been unleashed in the form of a spectacular, horrific looking rockslide, causing untold number of deaths or serious injury. The sight of what remained of the still burning tanker was a stark testimony of the reality of at least one fatality. The massive rockslide that had changed both natural and man-made landscapes had left a trail of death and destruction in its wake.

A female news reporter, standing some distance away, was fumbling with her microphone. It appeared to Simon as though she was attempting to overcome a technical glitch in her communications. The scene had switched back to the anchor newsman and woman at the home station right after the camera crew standing in front of the female reporter panned over and beyond her, showing the semi-trucks, pickups, RVs and other traffic waiting out the road closure.

It was the camera pan of the traffic backup that looked to be no more than a mile long that afforded Banks his first, up-close view of the many highway patrol and county law enforcement vehicles, fire trucks and rescue vehicles. _Oh no!_ Simon leaned forward on the couch bringing himself closer to the TV the moment he clearly identified the highway patrol cars as those belonging to Washington State. This was no longer a disaster in some far away place where he could cluck in sympathy for a moment and then move on. This was a disaster in hishome state – on a highway that hiscivilian police observer had possibly traveled on in his way back to Cascade.

But Blair wasn't here. He was almost two hours late. Simon was just flipping through channels while Jim was trying to reach Blair on the phone. Jim hadn't been able to reach him via cell phone though he should have been well within tower range by now. A horrible sinking feeling gripped Banks in his guts as he glanced over at Jim who was still standing with his back to him, oblivious to the drama unfolding on TV. _This has got nothing to do with Sandburg, _Banks thought resolutely. Still… he had no choice but to inquire of Jim exactly what route Sandburg had taken.

If something had happened to the enthusiastic, highly intelligent, unconventional young man who had made such a dramatic change in Jim's life, he owed him as Jim's personal friend to stay with him and be of help. Besides, initial reservations aside, Sandburg was an invaluable member of his team and the band of brothers looked out for their own.

Simon cleared his throat at the same time he took the TV off mute. "Jim, you'd better check this out and tell me if you know if this highway was on Sandburg's route."

Jim turned around to look just as the two news anchors were announcing that they were going back live to the scene of a massive rockslide that had closed a portion of I-90 in both directions and had most likely taken the life of at least one individual. The austere face paled and Simon watched Jim's body stiffen as Ellison took in the story and the possible implications for Sandburg. "Oh no, you don't, Ellison! Don't you dare zone on me now!" Simon barked out in his strongest commanding voice.

"Simon…" Jim turned towards his boss, the horror in his eyes barely concealed, "That road was on his route..."

"Don't go jumping to conclusions, Jim. We don't know yet when this rockslide occurred. He may very well have passed through that way before the disaster. Most importantly, they haven't said any other cars were involved."

Simon saw the effort his best and most controlled detective put into analyzing and internalizing his words.

"Can you see anything, Jim?"

"I don't have x-ray vision, Simon. I can't see through boulders!" Ellison snapped irritably. Seconds later, Jim issued an apology that bespoke of his shame at losing control.

"You don't know he's there," was all Simon said gently, understanding and yet not, the depth of feeling Ellison had for Sandburg.

"He went that way, Simon, and he's still there. I don't know how I know, but I just do. He could be hurt and unable to help himself..." The words, softly spoken, were full of firm conviction and an anguish so compelling that for a moment, Simon believed him fully. He believed that somehow, if Sandburg were in trouble, Jim would know it. Then his stubborn, conventional common sense kicked in and he decided it was time to take a more proactive approach to satisfying Jim's mind that the missing anthropologist had not been caught up in the natural disaster. Only then could they move on to finding out what had, in fact, delayed the young man.

"Jim, let me make a few phone calls to the station and get some folks to reach out to officers up there at the state patrol detachment in Wolf Lodge. They can at least tell us if there is any evidence that other vehicles were involved."

Jim nodded tersely. Above the fear, above the horror of the unspoken thought that his Guide could be lying dead, crushed to death beneath the massive weight of a boulder, was the hope burning brightly that Blair was alive and would remain so for Jim to find him. _Where are you, Chief? _Right now, there was no answer and the not knowing was strangling his soul with an unbearable tightness.

*******

.

Noel was crying out her need for nourishment. The plaintive wails wracked Blair's nerves as he rocked the hungry baby. The adrenaline rush that had carried him through the birth of Noel had long since faded from his system, leaving him cold, weary, and lightheaded.

He had taken the child from her dead mother's arms and begun rocking her desperately as he contemplated with repulsion the one sure source of nourishment. He had no choice. He had been entrusted with the life of Emily's child and he knew deep in his heart that what he was about to do was not really a violation of her dignity or privacy.

Sandburg, still cradling the wailing infant in one arm, gently pushed up the dead mother's thick sweater, exposing her upper torso, which had clearly sustained serious trauma. The black and blue, bruised skin covered a multitude of internal injuries. He reached behind the dead woman and unhooked her bra to reveal breasts containing colostrum, the nutrient-laden, pre-milk fluid. With a shaking hand and an embarrassed apology on his lips, Blair massaged and squeezed the right breast until beads of the precious fluid oozed from the nipple. "Please, please, please let this work," he desperately prayed.

With infinite care and patience, and with the bare minimum amount of her face exposed to the air, Blair gently guided Noel's lips to her dead mother's breast. When the baby latched on and began sucking hungrily, Sandburg could have whooped for joy.

He didn't know how much time had passed before he noticed a cessation of the movement caused by the baby's hungry feeding. All he knew was that his body ached dreadfully from the awkward half-leaning, half-kneeling position he was forced to adopt as he held to Noel to her mother's breast.

Slowly he lifted Noel away and looked down at the child. Her little face was serene in sleep, soothed and satiated. Good. It was time to leave this place and seek help. Sandburg slowly undid his leather belt from his jeans and pulled it from the belt-loops. He then put the belt around the outside of his coat, low on his waist and cinching it as tight as he could. Then, oh so carefully leaving a sufficient amount of breathing room for Noel, he placed the wrapped-up infant inside of his coat and buttoned it up.

Far above and off in the distance, he heard the sound of fire truck and ambulance Sirens. Help was up there, but up there was as far away to Blair as the moon. The road was bound to be closed in both directions, and there was no telling when rescue crews would actually be able to get in there and navigate around the site. Besides, he doubted if, in the wake of all that destruction, anyone would suspect that a car had gone off the side and been hurled off the mountain pass into the deepest of ravines. There was only one person he knew beyond hope and reason who could, with his own eyes, discern that a passing vehicle had gone off the road.

Blair gave a short, despairing laugh. He knew his roommate so well. He knew that Jim had serious trust issues and was quick to anger if he thought someone he cared about had let him down. There was no doubt in Sandburg's mind that his failure to arrive home as promised could very easily lead to feelings of hurt and betrayal in Jim. If that happened, would Jim even work past it to figure out that his failure to return home as promised was an act not of his own volition?

He'd better. He had no choice but to put his faith in Jim and the friendship they'd forged together. Sandburg made the choice to believe that Jim would not turn his back on him; that even in his anger, Jim would still look towards the welfare of his Guide. _Jim, we really need your help here, man._

_******_

And so it was that Blair Sandburg set out on a dark, treacherous climb with a newborn infant wrapped and tucked safely in the front of his coat. Every step was an agony on Blair's wounded leg. The makeshift bandage was soaked completely through with blood, but he hardly noticed. There was another perplexing problem that he needed to take care of if the tiny infant was to survive the harsh environment.

He had no idea how long Noel would sleep, but he knew whenever she awoke she would need to eat again and he had no formula, no bottles to accomplish that. He needed a solution, but he was finding it harder to think. Despite the fact that he had on thermal underwear and his coat, he was shaking from the cold and he knew it wasn't entirely due to the weather, but from shock and the pain from his leg injury.

Sandburg wracked his brain while looking around anxiously. Nothing came to him and despair settled around his heart. He was overcome with an intense level of weariness of body and mind. He became dizzy, so he leaned his back against a big pine tree. Before long his body slid down until his rear hit the cold ground. The injured man gasped as a bolt of pain flared all the way from his calf to his thigh and he fought desperately to stay conscious.

Ceremonial occasions aside, Sandburg had never been much of a praying a man. It wasn't that he'd rejected the idea of God and an ordered universe, it was more the idea of a personal God who heard and answered prayers that Blair had trouble embracing. But he needed to believe that now, because he'd come to the end of himself and he hadn't been able to figure out how to keep Noel fed while he struggled to find help.

In his weakness, a tear slid down his cold cheek as he looked up into the great expanse of the starless night sky and gave voice to the desperate prayer in his heart: "Hey," he began softly, "I know it's gotta be pretty annoying when all kinds of people, some who don't even know for sure that they believe in you, come and ask you for this, that and the other thing. I'm sorry about that, or if you think I'm one of those people, but I really do need your help." He cleared his throat hesitatingly. "Actually, it's more like this newborn baby girl named Noel needs your help. See, I don't know how long it's gonna take, or even if I **can** get us out of this side of the mountain we got flung down, but she's gonna need to eat when she wakes up, and I don't have anything to feed a baby. I don't know what to do. Please… please help me."

There was an answering silence. No angels, celestial or otherwise, appeared to give wise counsel, no disembodied, all-knowing voice intoned instruction. Blair closed his eyes and a stillness that would have otherwise been disconcerting but wasn't, wrapped around him like a comforting blanket. Slowly, almost without knowing what he was doing, he reached into the inner pocket of his coat until his fingers grasped around the little soft objects nestled there.

Sandburg pulled his hand out of his pocket and stared dumbfounded at what he held. Eight packets of sugar. He'd totally forgotten that he'd stuffed his coat pocket with packets, some of which he'd used to sweeten the cup of coffee he'd bought on the go. The sugar, melted and warmed in his mouth, was substance that could be fed to the infant, sustaining her life and assuaging her hunger pains for a time.

The clarity of the answer had cut a pathway through his formerly muddled and weary mind. So relieved was he, that he began to laugh and he couldn't stop, didn't want to stop. But he did – when the tears of gratitude for the unexpected answer began to flow.

_Thank you. Thank you._

**The Loft**

The phone seemed to ring with shrill intensity for Jim, causing him to wince slightly as he snatched up the receiver. "Ellison," he barked.

"Detective Ellison, this is Sergeant Kim Velasquez down at the station. Your captain asked me to contact him at this number."

"Just a minute." Jim wordlessly handed the phone to his captain.

"This is Captain Banks… "

Jim had no compunction about extending his hearing to listen in on both sides of the conversation. He followed along, all the while feeling dismay rise at what he heard.

Simon concluded the conversation, returned the cordless phone to its cradle, and then turned to face the intense blue-glacier eyes of Ellison. Banks knew what the man in front of him was going to say without him having to speak. "You can't, Jim," Banks said firmly.

"Like hell I can't. Are you going to try and stop me?"

"Jim, you heard what the sergeant said. The geotechnical engineers have said that the slope is still very unstable as a result of the rockslide, and until the slope is secured, emergency search and rescue teams and clean-up crews won't be allowed in. To make matters worse, there's a snowstorm moving in. The Department of Emergency Management will be coordinating rescue efforts, but only in the morning after the storm passes. Besides, Jim," Simon urgently added, "you **still **don't even know for sure that Sandburg's being late has anything to do with that rockslide."

Simon practically shouted the words after Jim's retreating back. He watched in disbelief as Jim, not sparing him an answer, took the steps leading up to his bedroom, two at a time. Upstairs, the detective grabbed a bag, stuffing it with toiletries and a change of clothes. Then he hustled back down the stairs in much the same manner as he did going up.

Bag in hand, he stopped in front of Simon, speaking in a low, determined voice. "I know he's there, Simon, and he needs my help or he may not make it out of there alive. Call it a friendship thing, a brotherhood thing, or a Sentinel and Guide thing. I don't really give a damn how I know it, just that I do, and nothing's going to stop me."

"Jim –"

Jim abruptly cut his boss off. "I could really use your help, Simon, but if you can't, I understand. Just don't try and stand in my way, all right?" The words, spoken in a low tone, were matter-of-factly rendered.

There was dead silence as Simon looked at the unmovable mountain of a man in front of him. Jim stood perfectly still under his boss's regard. Jim's exterior projected an image of strength and determination, but Simon could clearly see the truth in the eyes the other man wasn't able to completely conceal: Jim was scared. The fear was there on the fringes, a soul-deep terror at the possibility of losing the one being he loved above all others.

Simon then came to the only conclusion that he could live with and still call himself a good friend and concerned boss. True, Jim had the training and the skills to go off and find Sandburg on his own, but if Jim was right and Sandburg wasseverely injured or worse yet, dead, then Jim would need the steadying presence of a good friend more than ever.

Simon quickly reasoned things through. There was the basic logistical concern that needed to be worked out immediately. The location of the rockslide was nearly four hours away by car and no doubt, the road would also be blocked in both directions – as much as a mile on either side. God forbid, if Blair wasseriously injured and trapped, then time was of the essence. They had to get to the site as fast as possible. If they had to travel by car, it might take more time than Sandburg had. The reality though, which Simon could contemplate but Jim could not, was that even now, before they could work out what to do, it might be too late and all they would ever find was Sandburg's crushed remains.

Simon vowed right then and there that if there was anything in his power that he could do to prevent that, he would do it. He owed it to Jim, and most importantly, he owed it to Sandburg who was one of his men, paid or not. Understanding but firm brown eyes met steely ice blue ones in mutual agreement. Jim had received Simon's unspoken declaration: _I'm coming with you._

*******

Blair's painful, slow crawl up the side of the mountain was the most torturous thing the young man had ever had to endure. Numb from the cold, his unprotected hands were cut and bleeding from having to grab hold of the rough thick vegetation to propel himself forward as he alternated between moving the lower hanging branches of the larger bushes away from his face, and using them to aid in his climb upward.

The first flakes of snowfall began to drift from the night sky, but he had become so dizzy and exhausted from the unrelenting agony of his leg, and the blood he was continuing to lose from the deep gaping wound that ran all the way down to the bone, that he was becoming dangerously disoriented and weak so that he took no notice of it. Sometimes his mind drifted, his thoughts fuzzy as if his mind was shrouded in thick cotton. In those times, he fought the hardest to stay present and moving.

Sometimes he talked out loud, having an imaginary discourse with a student over a subject dealing with anthropology. Other times he talked to Noel. His thoughts, disjointed as they were, naturally drifted to Emily. Then the words he spoke were those of fond remembrance. But the person with whom he spoke aloud the most was Jim. Jim, who had no idea what had happened to him. Jim, who was waiting for him at home, with a ready smile and an open heart, ready to receive the spirit of the season. "Wait for me, Jim." He found himself repeating those words of promise, but strangely, the ghostly image of Jim that Blair's tired mind had conjured up had no response for him.

The painful journey continued on. Time and again, Blair fell and rose, groaning in pain, struggling to his feet to stagger on and do it all over again. Hands. Knees. Push up. Fall. Hands. Knees. Push-up. Fall. Each time he fell, he curled his body around Noel to cushion her and protect her from being crushed by his weight. Meanwhile, from inside the warmth and safety of his coat, the infant Noel slept on, oblivious to the life and death struggle of her rescuer.

Gradually, it took longer and longer for him to find the strength to get up again between falls. Blair's brain was issuing commands to his limbs, but his body found it increasingly more difficult to respond. The last time he had fallen, he'd lain on the cold ground panting for breath and looking at the stars while a dangerous lethargy had crept over him. Sandburg was becoming hypothermic and slowly succumbing to its effects.

After an interminable time, he hauled himself upright and shambled forward. But there was a strange roaring in his ears and his perception of reality twisted and lurched in a sickening way. The darkness, when it came to claim final victory over him, called to him like a Siren's song and he fell headlong into it. This time he didn't get up again.


	8. Chapter 8

Notes: Looks like Blair's about to embark upon a journey he didn't pack for. Hope you'll come along for the ride too!

* * *

It was quiet now; quiet and still, except for the occasional woodland creature who came out to sniff the air and to look about with curious, beady eyes. The gently falling snow fell steadily out of the dark, star-lit sky, covering the ground with a blanket of pristine white that obliterated the signs of the life-and-death journey taking place. The moon, full and ethereal, shone brilliantly upon the scenic landscape. The large but fragile rock walls cast great shadows, and the natural structures themselves loomed over the broken highway like silent, spectral sentries. Nature was obliviously beautiful and deceptively peaceful. It made no difference that death was near for two living beings, for death chased after life just as surely as winter pursued summer.

Even as the pain that had consumed his body so relentlessly began to fade as it merged into a strange, numbing warmth that enveloped Blair, his soul writhed in torment over the sure knowledge that he had utterly failed. The tiny, helpless being that had been entrusted to his care and safekeeping would perish in his arms because he was too pathetically weak, too lacking in inner strength and mental fortitude to accomplish what needed to be done. He had been judged and found wanting, and because of that, the infant girl would never know her father's love, would not see the wonders of this world, would not open her eyes to see another day.

Noel would die as would he. The pain of knowing that he eventually would be found, his corpse clutching the dead infant weighed Blair down with bleak despair. Noel, wrapped in her dead mother's coat and tucked tightly inside Blair's coat, slept on, oblivious to the grief and pain of the man whose body cocooned hers in safety and comfort. Blair was unable to speak aloud the words he longed to impart to Jim. The injured Guide's eyelids grew too heavy to keep open and with his last conscious thought, his soul cried, _"I'm sorry, Jim." _The blue eyes closed.

*****

_The blue eyes that had been closed in sleep sprang open suddenly. Stark terror reflected in their depths as images of burning flesh and agonized screams held the young man down, swamping him with an oppressive, paralyzing fear. Jacob sat up with a terrified gasp, one hand clenched tightly in a fist over his chest. For a moment, he was there… in that place that held his unspeakable nightmare, and not safe in his little room in his uncle's house. Then the terrifying images blessedly faded and folded into the reality of where he was. He allowed it to take hold over the sound of his ragged breathing. As Jacob's widely beating heart calmed, he recognized the sound that had roused him from his slumber was that of his uncle's voice calling to him. _

"_Jacob! Jacob, my boy, wake up!" Jacob's portly uncle waddled into the young man's little room, holding aloft a lighted lamp to illuminate his nephew's small but comfortable sleeping space._

_Jacob got up from his pallet, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he took notice of the anxious tone of his uncle's voice._

_Jacob, as most members of the household were, was an early riser; however, judging from the darkness outside, it was much earlier than he normally got up. Jacob squinted up at his uncle. "What's wrong, Uncle Aaron?" he asked as he attempted to tie back the long mane of riotous curls sticking out in all directions around his head. _

"_A messenger boy arrived not long ago with tidings that a small number of soldiers from the ranks of Herod the Great's army are heading this way, most likely seeking lodging." Jacob's uncle wheezed out, all the while trying to straighten out his outer garments, which clearly, he'd hastily thrown on._

"_Herod's dogs?" Startled, the young man's expressive eyes widened. "What do they want in a little backwater village like Ira?"_

"_Nothing good, I'm sure," Uncle Aaron muttered under his breath, then more clearly, "The messenger said these soldiers were attacked by a marauding band of Bedouin raiders between here and Bethlehem. They may have an injured man or two with them and simply want a place to rest and treat their wounded. May they take their ease here and then leave."_

"_But the boy didn't say what business brought these soldiers so far south, Uncle?"_

_Uncle Aaron, who looked decidedly unhappy about the prospect of sheltering soldiers from the army of the so-called, King Herod, scratched his balding head and shook his head no. There was no help for it though. He was an innkeeper and this was the only inn for miles. _

_Jacob regarded his uncle silently for a moment. "Shall I suspend lessons today, Uncle Aaron? What can I do to help?" _

"_Oh no, my dear boy! Rachel and Samuel will give me no peace if they miss their lessons." _

"_But the same cannot be said for Ezra, Asa, and little Hannah," Jacob replied with a rueful grin. _

_Uncle Aaron's quiver had been made full with the blessings of five children; three boys and two girls. His wife, Hannah, had died in childbirth bringing the couple's youngest child, also named Hannah, into the world five years ago. Jacob, among his other duties, was tutor to his uncle's children – a position he took seriously, both because of his love for his cousins, and because teaching as well as learning were his true passions in life. _

_There was a time in his life where he had lived the life of a student-teacher, a life that seemed to Jacob, at times, to have been lived by someone else and not he. The young man had once been a Torah student, studying in the Temple of Jerusalem. That was before his life had been shattered when he was caught up in tragic events wherein his beloved teachers, Matthias and Judas, along with several of his friends and fellow students, were brutally executed – burned alive while he, helpless to save them, was forced to bear witness to their agonizing deaths. _

_He'd nearly lost his own life too, but Herod had seen fit to exact a crueler punishment on the youngest student: he refrained from killing him, leaving Jacob to live with the guilt and shame of having been spared the nightmarish fate of his teachers and friends. _

_He'd fled Judea with his mother, Naomi, and sought out his Uncle Aaron who lived in the little village of Ira, a dusty little place just beyond the Judean border. When Jacob had arrived at the safety of his uncle's house, he'd been but a shadow of the man who stood before his uncle now. Then, he'd been broken in mind and ill in body. In his uncle's house, Jacob had found a much simpler way of life, yet one that was filled with the daily business of running an inn and serving as teacher to his uncle's children. _

_Under the care of his mother, the patient wisdom of his Uncle Aaron, and the unconditional love of his cousins, Jacob had regained his health and some semblance of peace of mind. There were scars on his back still, but they would fade in time. The ones that were deepest were written upon his heart, and only occasionally, did they remind Jacob of their painful presence. _

_Aaron spoke rapidly, clearly nervous. "Jacob, I want you to go into the marketplace. Buy for me a measure of healing minerals and herbs for the wounded solders, but first, follow Benjamin when he herds the sheep and goats. He is ready to leave now and he waits for you. Where he stops, you will see a small cave with a ledge over it. Place this there and conceal it with stones and brush." _

_Upon speaking those words of instruction, Uncle Aaron had withdrawn what looked like a bundle of tightly bound rags and placed it in Jacob's open hands. Jacob looked down at the bundle, shifting it in his hands in an attempt to discern the contents by the weight. No answer came to him. "You can tell me what this is, you know that?"_

"_I know," Uncle Aaron replied gently, seeming much calmer now that he had set in motion a plan to protect something he clearly regarded as valuable. He patted his nephew affectionately on the arm before ending the strange encounter with a gruff, "Be off now." _

_Uncle Aaron departed, taking the brighter light with him, thus once again leaving only the small bronze lamp, with its flax wick to illuminate the little room. Though the young man was naturally inquisitive by nature, there was never a question that Jacob would do his uncle's bidding without discovering the contents of the package. Instead, Jacob hastily rolled up his thick, coarse mattress and redressed himself in his tunic and coat. Then taking a leather girdle, Jacob quickly donned and cinched it around his slender waist before slipping on his leather sandals._

_Jacob silently ascended the narrow stairs that led down and out into the lower level of the large house and outside to the court. He quickened his steps when he saw Benjamin, his uncle's sheep and goat herder, waiting patiently for him amongst the herd of docile animals. Jacob called out a greeting to the tall, lanky youth and was greeted in return with a shy grin and a curious look. But it was not for him to question his master's will, so instead of assuaging his curiosity, the youth merely handed Jacob a slice of sheep's cheese with flat bread dipped in spices. "Thank you, Benjamin." Jacob gratefully accepted the food to quiet his grumbling empty stomach. The two young men set off together in companionable silence, Benjamin herding the animals between them. _

_Jacob breathed deeply of the fresh morning air in the land that had given him succor and refreshment for his wounded spirit after the terror of Jerusalem. The sky overhead was an expansive canvas painted with streaks of breathtaking dawn colors. _

_It was sights like the land's unbridled beauty that often led Jacob to introspection. Most often he reflected upon the One who made such beauty, but other times, he thought of the infinite number of mysteries there were in the world. He thought of the stories he'd heard from foreign travelers, scholars, and other learned men. _

_Always his mind turned to one story in particular, told to him once by a dark Nubian prince he'd met, and then again by a scholar from the Far East. Fantastic stories of tribal men, living in far off places, who were blessed with miraculous powers of observation, hearing, touch, taste, and smell. The Nubian prince had named such men in the language of his own tongue, but had translated the name for Jacob's understanding as the word, "Zakif", meaning Sentinel. Both the prince and the Asian scholar had recounted tales of the deeds of these tribal protectors, and Jacob, like a moth to a flame, had been irresistibly drawn to the idea of such living beings. _

_While others heard the stories and mocked them as the stuff of children's fables, Jacob's intellect demanded that he take a more analytical approach before rejecting the possibility that there were such men who walked the earth. Oh, how he longed to meet one if it were so. There were those occasions when Jacob had reason to consider specific men, men who'd exhibited uncanny abilities to discern things by their sense of smell or touch that most people could not. Inevitably though, Jacob had been disappointed upon realizing that those men were not the beings spoken of by the learned men. _

_The two young men were now outside the boundaries of Ira. As they herded the animals up the incline towards the grazing land, the hard ground became rockier, and the thorns snagged their garments, while sharp stones worked their way through the thinning leather of Benjamin's poor-quality sandals. Benjamin, being used to the rough terrain, paid no heed to the rocks. Jacob, though his shoes were better made, was not as accustomed to walking on that terrain as the sheep and goat herders were. Walking over the small, sharp rocks was still a painful proposition for his feet, though he did not complain. A few times, he even slipped and went down on one knee. _

_And so they went on until, at last, Benjamin stopped in a place that was his usual prime grazing area. The animals spread out and began feasting upon the foliage while Jacob looked around. There it was, just as his uncle had said it would be – a place that looked like a small cave with a large slab of rock overhanging. _

_The cave was a small enclosed space, not large enough for a man to stand upright in, but perfect for providing shelter to generations of shepherds from the burning sun's rays or the occasional harshly blowing winds. _

_After Jacob's eyes adjusted to the darkness, he found a particularly rocky area in a corner and began to remove some of the stones to reveal a crevice large enough to hide the mystery package. Removing the package from his robe, he placed it in the crevice and then carefully concealed it. "Whatever's in here, Herod's dogs won't find you now," Jacob muttered under his breath. _

_His first errand accomplished, Jacob bid Benjamin good-bye and hastened away. Long after he could no longer see the retreating figure of his master's nephew, Benjamin stood, staff in hand, looking on in quiet contemplation. _

_******_

_Jacob made his way back to his uncle's house, walking with a steady pace past the rows and rows of crowded, poor homes with their stone walls and narrow alleyways. He'd just come from the marketplace, which was characteristically teeming with the smell of hot, sweaty people and animals. Insects buzzed about annoyingly, and everywhere, there was the perpetual dust, dust that clung to the skin and got underneath one's coat and caused chafing and itching. _

_Jacob was hot and thirsty, and he couldn't wait to take a long drink of water from any one of the clay jars his uncle kept full at various places around the inn. As he carried the supply of healing ingredients he'd purchased in the market place after leaving Benjamin, he couldn't help but wonder if the soldiers had arrived, and if so, how many were in need of healing. _

"_Jacob! Jacob!" Three little children with feet and faces already dusty from vigorous play outside jumped around the young teacher and jabbered eagerly upon spying his return. Seven-year old twins, Ezra and Asa, and their baby sister, Hannah were followed by the more self-controlled, two oldest siblings, eleven-year old Samuel and ten-year old Rachel. _

_All the children loved their older cousin, sometimes to distraction, for he was unique in appearance and in personality, wholly unlike the other adults they knew. There was much speculation as to who had fathered Jacob, as his eyes were not the unusual but not unheard of green of his mother's, but a startling shade of vivid blue. His hair was unusual too, for Jacob kept it unfashionably long and curly. Once, after the children had relentlessly asked him why he kept it long, Jacob had replied with a sly smile that he had an oath to keep like Sampson in the scriptures. Awed by the comparison to the legendary fallen hero of the scriptures, they'd never again asked about it. _

_Jacob was educated, sophisticated and knew so much about many things about the world far beyond the borders of Ira. He never tired of sharing with them the stories of far off lands, and while the children counted it merely as Jacob's ability to entertain for hours, he was actually effectively using the time and the tasks they had to do in everyday life to instruct them. He diligently taught them Israel's history and instructed them in the scriptures with utmost seriousness. Oh, but when he played with them, he played with all the wild abandonment of one who had never left childhood. _

_His young cousins had not always known Jacob to be that way. It had taken the passage of some amount of time to transform the haunted visage with its sad eyes into the open, bright-eyed one it was today. _

_Jacob grinned affectionately at his cousins while they excitedly showed him two small wooden boats and a flute, exquisitely carved out of cedar. The young man looked with interest at the finely carved toys, wondering at the skill of the hands that made them. Then he spied his Uncle Aaron standing in the doorway so he quickly excused himself and went to the older man's side. _

"_It's done, Uncle," Jacob hurried to reassure the man before his uncle could speak. _

_Uncle Aaron in turn, looked relieved. "Well done, Jacob. Have you purchased a good amount of herbs and minerals?" _

"_Of course, Uncle." Jacob held out the cloth-wrapped packages, but instead of taking the bundle, his uncle asked him to take the medicinal ingredients inside to Naomi._

_Jacob, longing to alleviate his thirst, quickly took his leave of his uncle and went over to first wash the thick, clinging dust from his sandals and feet before stepping inside onto the highly polished tile floor. Then he used the ladle to get a soothing drink of water from the clay jar that sat by the door; refreshed now, the young man went in search of his mother._

_He looked first in the room where the women of the household labored long hours, grinding grain into flour, and then tending the ovens to bake bread. It was women's work preparing the food required to sustain the family and guests of the inn, and this was just one of the many areas in the life of an Israelite woman for which Jacob did not provide instruction to his young cousin, Rachel. _

_Jacob looked in vain there for Naomi, for she was not there among the female servants, nor was she with Aaron's mother-in-law who was busy preparing food and sewing clothes. Jacob was not surprised by this, as Naomi had never been completely accepted by the other women and thus tended to avoid spending time in their company. _

_Though of Hebrew blood, others perceived that there was something different about her, something distinctly foreign. Naomi worshipped God in her own way and not according to the teachings handed down from generation to generation. As a result, the women of the household, though fully accepting of Jacob, were noticeably less so of Naomi. There was constant gossip and speculation about the woman who was said to have shamed her family when, as a young woman, she'd run away from her family in the company of a beguiling, azure-eyed traveler from a barbarian land. _

_Some two years after Naomi had left with the stranger, she'd returned to her family in Jerusalem with a curly-haired, blue-eyed son in tow. Of the identity of the father, then as was the same now, she refused to speak. In matters of faith, she elected to keep her own counsel. Despite Naomi's ways that challenged society's expectations of her as a Jewish woman, and her son's dubious parentage, Jacob was accepted, well loved, and privileged to obtain an education in some of Jerusalem's finest synagogues. _

_At last, Jacob's search for his mother ended when, after he mounted the stairs along the outside wall up to the roof, he found Naomi sitting cross-legged on a mat with her eyes closed, deep in meditation. Jacob respectfully knelt then sat down quietly in front of her to wait. After a brief time, Naomi opened her eyes and smiled warmly at her son._

"_What is it, Jacob?"_

"_Naomi, have you heard that some of Herod's soldiers are coming to Ira, and that some of them may be sick or injured?"_

"_Yes, Aaron told me." Naomi lowered her eyes. "I was afraid for you, Jacob." _

"_I know, but this has nothing to do with me." Jacob tried to sound reassuring, but only he knew how his body had trembled and his mind threatened to send him back to the terror surrounding the deaths of his teachers and friends when his Uncle Aaron had told him about the soldiers. _

_Jacob quickly pressed the bundle of healing ingredients into his mother's hands. "I bought these ingredients to make medicine. If anyone can help them, you can."_

_Naomi's eyes flashed fire as she pressed the bundle back into her son's hands. "I will not help those pigs! How can you even ask, knowing what they did to you?"_

_For a moment, Jacob remained silent as he pushed back a strand of hair that had escaped from the confines of the band securing the rest of his long, curly hair at the nape of his neck. Finally, he sighed and said in a low voice, "I don't know that they did anything to me. It's Herod who holds the power of life and death, not those who serve him for a coin and a sack of grain. You know that."_

_Now it was Naomi's turn for silence in the face of her son's words. Seizing the moment, Jacob spoke again, and as he did, he pressed the bundle once more into her hands. "It's not in your nature to set your back against anyone who is ill or in pain."_

_This time, Naomi kept the bundle. With one hand, she cupped the beloved face with its masculine beauty. "You are right." She got up from the mat and Jacob rose with her. _

_Together they descended the stairs and when they reached the bottom, the two parted ways. They did not see each other again until later when the soldiers arrived at the inn. _

_Having accomplished his special errands, Jacob set about rounding up his younger cousins. The young man was determined to resume his routine by beginning an instructional session for his young charges before the relatively cooler mid-morning period slipped past into the afternoon with its oppressive heat. Thus, when the sun climbed to its highest in the sky on its westward journey, the strangers who arrived at the inn saw first a young man sitting under the shade of a tree in the midst of a group of children. _

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Hey Readers, I'd love to know what you think! Good, bad, just okay - all comments are greatly appreciated for the time and effort it takes to make them.


	9. Chapter 9

Thank you, once again Chiclete for the lovely review. I really appreciate you. I'm glad Jacob is growing on you once the shock wore off! : )

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_The village of Ira loomed ahead in the distance as the three men approached steadily but cautiously._ _Two of the men walked next to a horse while the third lay insensate, secured to the an old grey mare by leather bindings. The two soldiers on foot, Martinus and Eitel, had often conversed with each other along the long, hard road, but now a wary silence had fallen upon them as they drew nearer the village. _

_The two men were grateful to be nearing shelter, food and a safe place to sleep, yet Martinus and Eitel, trained soldiers they were, remained on guard. The exhausted men were unsure of their reception, since technically, they were in a land that lay outside of the jurisdictional boundaries which encompassed Judea, and at the same time, Herod the Great, whom they represented, was widely despised._

_The journey of the length undertaken by these men of Herod's army was always fraught with danger. Roads were poor, and roving bands of vicious criminals waited to rape, rob and murder defenseless, weary travelers. Eitel and Martinus had been neither weary nor defenseless when they were ambushed by marauders, not more than a day and a half's journeying distance south from the town of Bethlehem. Still, these men, deserters from Herod the Great's army, had barely escaped with their lives since they'd been forced to fight to defend themselves and protect the third man among them, the son of their sword brother, who seemed to have been stricken with a paralyzing affliction that could not be attributed solely to the side wound he'd suffered days ago. _

_As it was, they were accosted by no one, neither did any make a move to welcome them as they made their way down the dusty, narrow streets, through the heart of the town with its markets and meeting places teeming with people – people who had known little else but the grinding struggle for survival in the harsh land. Some people glared at them with open hostility, and Martinus and Eitel returned their gazes with measured, non-hostile looks. Others nervously steered their gazes elsewhere while scurrying out of their way in fear. _

_The soldiers pressed on, until at last they came upon a solitary little boy playing with a ball. Wearily, Martinus looked for a coin of sufficient denomination and when he had found one, he offered it to the lad in exchange for an escort to Ira's one and only inn. Eyes wide with greedy joy at having come into an unexpected boon, the boy took off with all the speed and boundless energy reserved for the young. Eitel irritably called after him to slow his pace. In response, the youth took to walking at a medium pace as he led them skillfully through the narrow alleys lined with poor homes jammed together. At last they emerged into the open space and in front of the home and inn of the wealthiest man in Ira._

_*******_

_Jacob abruptly left off speaking when he looked up and caught sight of the approaching soldiers. Two soldiers, one tall and dark-haired, the other tall and blond-haired, walked along either side of a horse burdened with the body of a third man. Though there was no change in his facial expression and outward demeanor, Jacob's heart raced as an unreasonable fear gripped his soul from the mere sight of soldiers from Herod's army. _

_Not wishing to alarm his young cousins, Jacob stood up slowly, and with a false sense of calm, spoke to them in a pleasant, even voice. "The lesson is over for today. Go inside now, and see to your other chores." _

_Oblivious to the cause of their early liberation, the two eldest cousins groaned out weak-hearted protests, for sitting under a tree being taught by their older cousin was much preferred over the chores awaiting them. On the other hand, the youngest children sprang up and immediately commenced chattering and rough-housing with each other._

_Samuel, the oldest, was already walking across the courtyard towards to the house. Only Rachel stood still. She'd sensed that Jacob had perceived something out of the ordinary that had caused him to cut short their lessons. Jacob was standing before her, but not looking at her. His attention seemed to be focused on something over her shoulder. Rachel whirled around and her eyes widened at the sight of the approaching soldiers. _

_The startled young girl looked back at Jacob with questioning eyes. "All is well, Rachel. Go inside now and take the younger children with you," Jacob hastened to reassure her. Only after all the children had crossed the courtyard and gone inside did Jacob turn again to face the men, one of whom was clearly injured and helpless. _

_The soldiers came to a halt in front of Jacob. Jacob alternated between fear and concern as his eyes moved from the stern, weary visages of the two foreign soldiers on foot, to the partially covered, slack face of the third who lay across the horse's back. Finally, he settled on concern after having looked in their eyes and detected no cruelty there. The soldiers had eyes that were battle-hardened from wars and life, yes, but they had not been rendered cruel from the wickedness of a dark heart. How unlike were those eyes from those belonging to the soldiers of Herod the Great who had joked and laughed at the sight of his friends and teachers being burned alive… Jacob inwardly shuddered and quickly turned his mind away from his old nightmare to address the new arrivals. _

"_I'm Jacob. My Uncle Aaron has been expecting you. I'll take you inside, and you will soon have food, drink and a place to rest." He glanced curiously at the unconscious form of the third. "Your wounds will be tended, and I'll see to it that your beast is taken care of too." _

_The blond one nodded his head in a gesture of thanks and replied in a gruff voice accented with the signature of one who hailed from Germania. "I am called Eitel. This is Martinus." Martinus, too, nodded his head, but the wary look did not pass from his face. _

_Eitel placed a rough, callused hand in a surprisingly gentle manner upon the head of the unconscious man. This man needs help. His name is Gaius Felix Justus." _

_Jacob peered at the face that was partially hidden by a cloak in an attempt to get a closer look at the man. Once pushed aside, the cloak revealed the face of a warrior whose startlingly strong, striking features bore the look of one whose suffering clearly included a lack of food and sufficient water for some days. Jacob's genuine concern increased. "What ails him?" he inquired gently. _

_This time Martinus answered, "We don't know why he is this way." Martinus hesitated and looked to Eitel. _

"_He took a sword-wound in the side days ago in Bethlehem. It was a painful wound, but a simple one. We cleaned and bandaged it, but since then, he's not moved," Eitel finished, then looked away. _

_Jacob got the distinct feeling that Eitel and Martinus had withheld something, that they had not been entirely truthful regarding the circumstances behind Gaius' current condition. However curious he was about the entire story though, now was not the time for further questioning. _

_The men made their way across the courtyard until they stopped a few yards from the entrance to the house. Jacob, spying one of his uncle's servants emerging from the stable off to the left called out, "Mica!" The man trotted over, eying the soldiers with a suspicious look on his face while he awaited instruction. Jacob turned back to Martinus and Eitel. "Untie Gaius from the horse while I summon help to bring him inside. Mica, when this man is free from the horse, see to it that the animal is taken care of." _

_Martinus' and Eitel's protests that they would carry Gaius inside themselves fell on deaf ears as Jacob, anxious to see to his uncle's guests, quickly closed the remaining distance to the front door and went inside to find his uncle and two male servants. _

_Jacob quickly located his uncle in the room immediately off to the left. The Master's Quarters, as it was otherwise known, was the most handsomely appointed room in the entire house with its raised platform. The richly embroidered couch lining the three walls was used both for sitting during the day and reclining at night. This was the room used for receiving guests._

_Aaron looked up calmly from where he was seated reading an open scroll. "They're here," Jacob announced quite unnecessarily, for he knew Rachel had already informed her father of the soldiers' arrival. _

"_So Rachel told me." _

"_They have a wounded man with them, and I need two servants to help bring him inside."_

"_How badly is the man injured?" _

_Jacob shrugged, still uncertain that he had been told the truth about the wounded man. "I don't know, Uncle. They said he took a stab wound to the side, but I didn't see for myself. He is unconscious." _

_Upon hearing that brief report, Aaron left the room quickly to find two men. He soon found two servants working, Philip and Amos, who were performing some interior repair work. He called out and bade them come over. When they arrived, he instructed them to go with Jacob and bring in the wounded guest. _

_When Jacob once again stood outside with Eitel and Martinus, he found that Gaius had been unbound and removed from the horse. The weight of his limp body was being evenly held between the two of them. Philip and Amos tried to relieve the ragged-looking soldiers of their burden, but the wounded man's self-appointed guardians refused to relinquish their hold. Mica then led away the horse to the stable, while Jacob escorted the inn's newest guests inside. _

_Jacob led the men past his uncle's room to the large airy chambers located at the level of the central court. In doing this, he bypassed the customary rituals that would have been normally observed for greeting newly arrived guests. Under other circumstances, the guests would remove their shoes before entering the master's chamber for introductions. The master of the house would then, in a formal show of hospitality that included foot washing by servants, offer refreshments. On this occasion though, Uncle Aaron would not be greeting the guests in his chambers. _

_When the men entered the secluded apartments reserved for guests, Jacob selected a large room and directed the men to place Gaius upon a thick mattress covered with a soft skin. Eitel drew back the cloak that had partially covered the sick man's face, and Martinus removed his bloodstained tunic. _

_The entire time that Jacob had observed Gaius, the man had neither made a sound nor twitched a muscle. The young man's observation resulted in a surprisingly unsettled feeling, the source of which he didn't understand. It was in his nature, he knew, to be concerned about the wellbeing of his fellow man, but this feeling was inexplicably deeper than the circumstances seemed to warrant. _

_Aaron spoke to Jacob. "Naomi is in her room, go and bring her." Jacob nodded and took off, taking the stairs to the upper level two at a time. _

_Naomi's room was, of course, located with all of the other rooms set aside for the female relatives of Aaron's household. As such, Aaron and Jacob were the only adult males allowed entrance to those rooms. Jacob quickly found Naomi and helped her gather the necessary items for tending the injured man before leading the way back. _

_When Jacob, followed by Naomi, entered the room, he found Gaius' stripped form lying still, beneath a light sheet. Eitel and Martinus stood up as one to face the newcomer, the one who would heal the son of their shield brother. Naomi stepped forward gracefully and knelt down besides the stricken man. "Where is his injury?"_

"_He was stabbed in the side with a sword," Jacob answered her. Whatever reticence Naomi had about aiding the despised soldiers from King Herod's army dissipated in the face of actually seeing the suffering of the young, handsome, ill man. Though he looked to be a good ten years older than her son, Naomi's maternal instincts ran strong._

_Naomi bent to her work, examining her patient and unbinding the wound while the others looked on. In moments, the wound lay exposed. Naomi touched the flesh, then she lifted up an eyelid until the ice-blue of a vacant eye showed through, before gently letting the eyelid close. Next, she ran her fingers gently through his hair, feeling around the man's skull. The beautiful, vibrant woman who knew how to set broken bones, treat infections, skin diseases and snakebite was puzzled by what she saw. _

_The wound that marred the tan skin was approximately the length of her finger. The skin was already beginning to knit together. There was no blood seepage, nor any foul odor indicating infected tissue. The wound was well on the way to healing. Naomi looked up at Eitel and Martinus. "This unnatural sleep was not caused by the wound, yet I see no injury to his head. Did he take a fall?"_

_Jacob observed Eitel and Martinus exchange another secretive look between them. Martinus gave an almost imperceptible nod to Eitel. Eitel began speaking slowly, as if having difficulty finding the right words. "This man is fearless in battle. He has the heart of a lion, stronger than even his father who is our sword brother, but… he is plagued by a strange condition."_

"_Condition?" Naomi arched an eyebrow._

"_Strange fits comes over him from time to time. When this occurs, it's as though his spirit has left his body and all that remains is an empty shell. He can neither move nor speak for a time, though never has it been for so long a time as this." _

"_And you are saying that this… this sleep is what this is?" Naomi asked, gesturing at Gaius._

_Eitel nodded and Martinus merely shrugged. _

_Naomi pulled the sheet up over Gaius' body, then she stood up. "So the fit came upon him when he was stabbed? It was the pain that brought on the fit?"_

"_No, Lady," Martinus spoke up quietly. "It was before. The spirits have touched his mind perhaps. We don't understand such things, but we do know that Gaius suffers when noises are too loud, lights too bright. Even smells that are too strong overwhelm him and he becomes as he is now."_

_Jacob, who had been standing in the corner listening with great interest, suddenly startled. His heart began to beat faster as he turned over in his mind what he had heard. There was something familiar about this story. Jacob shook his head. It cannot be, there is some other reason for this. But the knowledge in his head beckoned to what he believed in his heart was true. Yet, at the same time, his heart warred with his intellect. The young man's blue eyes stared intently at the man laid out on the pallet while he wrestled internally for a moment more before giving voice to his conclusion: "He's fallen into The Void." _

_All, except Naomi, looked upon Jacob with blank stares. Naomi merely looked expectantly at her son for she knew many things about the healing arts, but her son knew more than most about a variety of things in the world._

_Jacob crossed the room, sat down next to the still form. "He's been lost in The Void for too long – he will surely die if he cannot leave it soon."_

"_Jacob, you are not a healer. What are you talking about?" Aaron questioned anxiously. "You don't know the possible consequences should you offer hope where there is none, and when you are in no position to give it." _

"_Can you help him?" Naomi asked, looking speculatively at her son. _

"_I don't know," Jacob murmured as he pushed a curly lock of hair behind his left ear nervously. The young man took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. "Leave me alone with him." _

_The others turned to leave, but at hearing Jacob's request, Eitel and Martinus both advanced, scowls marring their battle-scarred faces._

"_Please." The wide-blue eyes looking up at them were guileless, and hid no evil intent. _

_After a moment, Eitel and Martinus also reluctantly left the room, leaving Jacob alone with the stricken man. Jacob turned his full attention unto Gaius. He reached into the basket containing the various resins that had been mixed with oil to make salves and poultices. The young man pulled out two jars, one containing the pungent substance called myrrh, the other, the very costly, and equally pungent, opobalsam. _

_Leaning over the stricken man, Jacob placed a small amount of the salve made from myrrh in the inside of Gaius' cheek. He then took a small portion of the opobalsam and placed it along the man's upper lip, just under his nose. Jacob cleared his throat nervously. "Gaius," he called earnestly into the man's ear. "Gaius, I don't know if you are one of those special men – a Zakif, but if you are, you have to listen to me. Hear my voice." _

_Gaius remained still, dead-like upon the pallet. Undaunted, Jacob continued speaking. "You've fallen into The Void, but you can't stay there anymore. You must come back." The young man took his hand and ran it up and down Gaius' bare arm. "Come back, Gaius." _

_Nothing._

"_Come back now." _

_Still, there was nothing. No sign that Gaius had heard, no reason for Jacob to believe his voice had penetrated the darkness caused by The Void. Jacob's heart began to fill with despair. Had he pinned his hope on a myth? Had he been puffed up with knowledge that was nothing more than an illusion? Jacob closed his eyes and called the man's name again._

_Suddenly, the flesh beneath his hand twitched. Jacob's eyes flew open, and he gasped in shock and surprise. He was looking straight into a set of eyes that rivaled the clearest, sharpest blue of the lightest sapphire gem. _

TBC

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Thank you for reading.


	10. Chapter 10

Notes: Are you there, Sentinel Readers?

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_There was no sense of awareness in the black place of oblivion. There was no time or space, only nothingness. But something began to penetrate the darkness and restore self-awareness. He was tired, infinitely exhausted; he preferred remaining where he was, but there was a presence that called to him with strange familiarity. He could not ignore the commands of that voice. The eyelids he fought to open seemed to him to weigh more than stones, and he did not think he had the strength to open them, but for the power of the insistent voice, and the touch that brought with it a tingling sensation that ran up and down his arm. _

_Darkness became grey, then turned to light. There was sound, and smells of something pungent, and over that… something else that smelled of man, something pleasant. His eyes opened, and then there was sight. He saw the face of a young man above him. The eyes that peered down at him were wide with wonder. Excitement and kindness shone from the deep blue pools. He'd never seen those eyes before, yet they seemed so familiar. _

_He saw as though a man granted vision for the first time. Everything he perceived through his senses was sharp and clear. Though frighteningly weak, he felt more alive than he'd ever felt before. _

_Where he was, and how he had gotten there, he had no idea, but in his heart, he had no fear. The face above him meant him no harm, of that he was sure._

"_Who are you? What is this place?" The voice that spoke to Jacob was weak and raspy from disuse. The strong features in the lean face grimaced._

"_My name is Jacob. This is my Uncle Aaron's inn at the village of Ira." Jacob appeared to be fairly vibrating with excitement as he repeated in an incredulous tone, "I brought you back... I can't believe I brought you back." _

'_Ira?' _

'_Ira?' He had been in Bethlehem. But why? Gaius closed his eyes as the memories of what had followed in the wake of their arrival came crashing down… Blood, screaming, a grieving mother stabbing him with his own sword, sharp pain like fire and ice. Shame and confusion warred within as Gaius weakly looked about for his sword brothers, Eitel and Martinus. "How did I get here?" His voice barely rose above a whisper._

"_Your companions brought you here."_

_Gaius made as if to speak again, but Jacob quickly cut him off. "Shh… You need to eat, drink, and take rest – real rest." Jacob got up and went to the door. He beckoned for Naomi and asked her in a low voice to bring food and drink, then he returned to Gaius' side. _

"_Eitel and Martinus are here, they are safe." Jacob burned with curiosity. Was this man a Zakif? Had he been overwhelmed by sights and sounds perceived through powerful senses, and thus had fallen into that strange state the learned men had spoken of as The Void? Jacob controlled himself as he waited for Naomi to return with the requested meal. _

_When Naomi returned she had with a pitcher of cool water, dried fish, bread, and an assortment of fruits. She was closely followed by her brother Aaron, as well as Eitel and Martinus, who would not be kept away. _

_Gaius watched as Eitel and Martinus, looks of joy on their faces, crossed the room and knelt on either side of him. Jacob noted the look of relief on Gaius' face. _

_Eitel spoke first, and there was wonder in his voice. " It is true, the Israelite brought you back." _

"_It was no easy journey bringing your lifeless carcass here," Martinus broke in with a voice made gruff with affection. _

_A ghost of a smile touched Gaius' lips. Eitel and Maritnus looked weary and their dirty clothes reeked of sweat and grime. Though they had both tried to remove the blood from their clothing and protective armaments, residual traces of blood remained still. "Are you both well?"_

"_Ja, better than you." Eitel looked to Jacob to whom Naomi had handed over the food and drink. He got up so that Jacob could resume his place near Gaius. _

_Slowly, Jacob assisted Gaius in sitting up, then he handed the older man a cup filled with cool water. In his weakened state, Gaius could barely hold the cup. His hands shook uncontrollably and some of the liquid spilled onto the blanket covering him. Jacob wordlessly placed his sturdy hands over the unsteady, long-fingered ones. _

_Such a show of weakness would have ordinarily been a source of shame and self-contempt, but it was strangely not so in the presence of this young man with the innocent-looking face. Gaius lacked the strength to contemplate the uncommon effect the Israelite had on him, for his thoughts seemed scattered like wandering sheep. He could only eat what the young man fed him, and drink when he raised the cup to his lips. Soon, his eyes began to droop as sleep came to claim him. _

_*******_

_Jacob eased Gaius back down again and drew the blanket up over his shoulders. The young man smiled when he saw that, before his head hit the pallet, the man was already in a deep, natural sleep. He sat still for a moment, watching Gaius' face as the man breathed gently in and out. _

_Then Aaron cleared his throat. Jacob stood up and faced his uncle. He noted the expression on his uncle's face and wondered why his lips were pursed together in a disapproving frown. What he didn't know was that his Uncle Aaron's disapproving look had been directed at his mother, _

_for when Gaius had sat up, the blanket covering the big man had dropped to his hips, exposing his nude, well-muscled torso. Naomi had looked on with an ill-disguised look of lusty appreciation, which had angered Aaron. _

"_Our guest will be well now, thanks to Jacob." Aaron looked pointedly at Naomi before continuing, "Naomi, Rachel needs your help with her sewing. Eitel, Martinus, come with me so that I can show you some proper hospitality." Aaron's authoritative tone made it clear he would accept nothing other than acquiescence. One by one, they filed out of the room with Jacob bringing up the rear. _

_The four men made their way to Aaron's reception room. Eitel and Martinus removed their sandals before stepping onto the raised platform. Once they were comfortably seated upon the couch, servants bearing rags and bowls filled with steaming water entered and began washing away the dirt and tiredness from their aching feet. Food and drink were brought forth, and Aaron encouraged the men to relax and eat and drink their fill. _

_Jacob and Aaron sat across from the guests, but it did not stop Jacob from observing his Uncle Aaron watching the men with an inscrutable expression on his face. The young man perceived that his uncle's initial dread and fear when he'd first heard the news that soldiers from King Herod's army were headed to Ira had all but faded and been replaced by something else, something darker. _

_Jacob, as surely his Uncle Aaron did, had many questions for which he was certain he would not like the answers. What were those soldiers doing in Bethlehem? Why had they not returned to Herod with their stricken friend? Why did they look as though they were fleeing? Most troubling to Jacob was the question of whose blood was on still on their clothes and weapons. Surely it did not all belong to Gaius. Was it Jewish blood then? Had they murdered his brethren and now he and his uncle were offering them hospitality?_

_Jacob picked at his food while Eitel and Martinus ate hungrily, each man, one with shaggy blond hair, the other with shaggy dark brown hair, sat with their heads bowed over their bowls of food. They looked up only after they had finished first and second servings, licking their fingers and wiping their mouths on the sleeves of their dirty tunics. _

"_More wine?" Aaron asked solicitously. The strangers held out their cups, and servants hastened to refill them. The two men drank more leisurely as their hunger and thirst slackened. Aaron stood up then and began pacing silently for a moment. Then he spoke, _

"_Are you fleeing King Herod's army? Are you deserters?"_

_Eitel and Martinus immediately sat straighter. Their faces became guarded as they looked silently at each other. _

"_What business did you have in Bethlehem?" Aaron asked without waiting for an answer._

_Jacob, desiring to head off a confrontation from his volatile uncle, cleared his throat. "Uncle, these men are tired. Perhaps after they've rested would be a better time to seek answers."_

"_No, Jacob. They will answer now. Truthfully, or they will leave immediately."_

_Jacob could not hide his dismay at his uncle's demand. "But what of Gaius? Would you have him leave too when he is still weak and recovering?" _

_After the barest of pauses, Aaron replied, "Of course not, Jacob. Gaius may recover his strength and then he will leave." He turned to the men once more. "Will you speak truthfully?"_

_Some unspoken communication passed between the two foreign-born soldiers. Eitel answered for both of them: "Ja. We will. We are in your debt for the life of Gaius."_

"_Then, are you deserters?"_

"_Martinus and I will never return to Judea, instead we will go back to the land of our fathers. Gaius knows nothing of this."_

"_If that is so, then why is Gaius with you? Would he not have returned to Judea with others of your company?"_

_Martinus spoke up. "Perhaps it was only the three of us who were dispatched to Bethlehem."_

_Aaron snorted disdainfully. "When does Herod not dispatch a great number of his army in a show of force to do his evil deeds?"_

_Jacob nodded his head in silent agreement. His uncle was no fool._

"_You are right. Four nights ago, our captain came to our barracks. Eitel, myself, Gaius and fifteen other men were selected to ride to Bethlehem to carry out Herod's orders." _

"_What were those orders?"_

_Neither man answered._

"_Tell me!" Aaron hissed impatiently._

_Eitel looked wearily at Aaron and then he answered in a low, steady voice, "For years there were rumors circulating around Herod's throne… Talk of an old Hebrew prophecy concerning a great and mighty Jew who would arise amongst the people and rule the entire world as king." Eitel shrugged pragmatically. "For years Herod was not bothered by such rumors. Even in Ira you know of how effective Herod is at taking care of his enemies, even when they are his own family members."_

"_Especially when they are his own family members," Jacob muttered under his breath._

_Eitel ignored him and continued. "Things changed. Herod grew more concerned – I don't know why, it is not for the likes of someone of my station to know, but one day, not long ago, three men from a far away land, men of great riches and mystical powers, arrived in Jerusalem. They made camp outside of Herod's palace. One night, my captain, Drusus, came to me, Martinus and two others, in our barracks. We were commanded to accompany Herod outside the palace walls. Herod met with these strangers in secret."_

_Eitel fell silent, and Martinus took up the tale. "When Herod emerged from their tent, he had a look on his face and in his eye, that spoke of madness. Many days passed and there was nothing, only our training and regular duties." _

"_And then?" Aaron asked harshly._

"_And then one morning, Drusus ordered myself, Eitel and fifteen other soldiers to prepare to ride to Bethlehem. Our captain told us we were to find this man who would be king and kill him."_

"_Bethlehem is a poor little town filled with unarmed Jews. Herod sent over fifteen men to kill some unknown poor man who some rebels claimed would take his place as king?" Aaron's disbelief and scorn were plain. _

_Martinus looked closed off, and Eitel ran a hand through his shaggy blond hair, his gaze was fixed firmly on the drink in his hand. It was Eitel who continued this time. "Our captain is a cruel man, and his dark heart serves Herod well. He lied, and when we at last reached the outskirts of Bethlehem by nightfall, he took undue pleasure in telling us the truth of our mission." _

_As the story unfolded, Jacob sat, listening intently. When the men spoke of the ancient prophecy, his mind recalled all that he had read and been taught concerning He who would be called Messiah. Not long afterwards, a feeling of terrible unease and dread began to steal over his heart. Then, in one instant, he was ignorant of the truth, and the next, a terrible revelation came to him before Eitel next spoke. Jacob was horrified. _

"_You sought not a man to kill, but a babe. Your King sent you to murder a defenseless infant!" he cried out in shocked dismay. Jacob's heart sank. What of Gaius? He was a solider just as they were, sent on the same mission to Bethlehem to murder a child. This man who might very well be the actual embodiment of the proof that there were such beings as Sentinels – __his__ Zakif, was nothing more than a barbarian butcher. _

_Jacob was nearly overwhelmed by feelings of bitterness. But the tale Eitel and Martinus told was still not finished. This time, there was deep shame in Eitel's words when he spoke. "The captain ordered us to search every home in Bethlehem, seek out every man-child under the age of two and put them to death with the sword. Fathers rent their clothes. Blood ran in the streets when mothers tried to flee with their infants. Their sons died screaming and the wails and howls of their mothers' anguish echoed in the night." _

_Jacob's uncle looked beside himself with cold fury. "You murdering dogs!"_

"_We are soldiers. When told to go, we go. When told to kill, we kill," Martinus stated matter-of-factly, but his shame was no less than Eitel's._

_Eitel finally looked up at the young man sitting across from him. Jacob's youthful face was drained of color, his blue eyes huge in his face. As if perceiving part of Jacob's real anguish, Eitel spoke, "Gaius killed no one."_

_But Jacob was too shocked and horrified to hear Eitel's words. He stood up, swaying slightly. "You have bought great evil and shame to this house. You are murderers, and the blood of Jewish infants is on your hands," he choked out. Images of babies being run through with swords, bodies twisted in agony and dripping with blood, assailed him. _

_Jacob's body shook uncontrollably as the dreadful images swirled, merged and changed into the terror and agony of an other time and place. _

_Suddenly he was no longer safe in his uncle's home in Ira. He was in Jerusalem, his naked body stretched between two posts. Jacob's heart pounded wildly and he gasped for breath, his body, jerking as if he felt the brutal lash of the whip tearing his back to shreds, all the while Herod's laughing face mocked him for being the lucky recipient of his "mercy" while the others, his rabbi and friends, would be executed for their folly by being burned alive. And when he had screamed and screamed until he could voice no cry aloud any longer, he was untied and allowed to unceremoniously drop to the ground in a bloody, quivering heap. _

_Jacob, then as he did in the present, saw everything in a red haze of pain. His mind was nearly numb from the agony and humiliation of his ordeal. It was not the fear for his beloved friends, nor the physical pain that was the final blow that sent him deep into oblivion, seeking reprieve from the cruelty, it was the blow to his soul that suffused him with a shame too deep to ever fully recover. Herod's bloated face loomed close to his as the guards roughly held his head in place. "Do you want to know why your miserable, traitorous life has been spared while the others will feel the kisses of the flames?"_

_Jacob could only pant harshly from the pain as Herod took hold of his long curls and jerked his head before giving a conspiratorial wink. Then the cruel king said with a whisper meant for Jacob's ears only, "Your mother whored herself to me to spare your life, again, and again, and again…" Herod allowed his voice to trail off suggestively. _

"_She was quite a fine mount, considering I like them much younger. You should feel proud."_

_The Jacob who had endured the whipping then, and the one who stood in Aaron's reception room now, moaned, and it was a sound that was nothing less than a soul so wounded and broken that it longed for death. But death did not claim him then, nor did it now. The blackness of unconsciousness enveloped him until there was no pain, only silence. _

_Aaron watched in paralyzed shock as his nephew crumpled to the ground and lay unmoving._

**Present Day**

**Washington State Patrol, Cascade Detachment**

From the warmth inside the small Washington State Patrol detachment, Jim and Simon both could see the chopper in which they would soon be riding. The chopper's blades were slowly starting up their rotations as the pilot in the cockpit began to warm the bird up and perform his pre-flight check procedures.

The night air was miserably cold. Just looking at the sleet coming down, and hearing the occasional gusty, chilly wind barrel through was enough to make Simon shudder and hunker down in his warm parka despite the building's heat. The parka was one of the few items Simon had managed to snag during the brief time inside his house in which he had to pack as Jim waited impatiently outside in his SUV for him.

Simon looked over at Jim, observing the other man's tense posture and determined, intense expression. His detective was pacing back and forth like a caged tiger. He let out a soft sigh of resignation. This wasn't going to be easy, but he knew Jim was doing the best he could to remember just how much he owed him at this exact moment.

Thank God for that short but important list of people in high places who owed him favors, Simon thought. One never knew when one would have to call in a marker, and boy, was this one a doozy.

Back at the loft, he and Jim had wracked their brains trying to figure out a way to reach the other end of the state as quickly as possible. They needed something fast – a chopper. And as desperate as Jim was to get to the area, even the anxious Sentinel understood that it wasn't possible for even a man of Simon's position of power and authority to authorize a Cascade City police chopper to fly them up to the site of the disaster. He had to use another resource, and that's when he remembered his former college roommate and fraternity brother, Ronald Crawford.

Crawford was well connected in the Emergency Management Division. In fact, he worked within the hierarchy of the State's Resource Coordination Center – the organization tasked with coordinating the State's resources for the purposes of search and rescue operations. If anyone could arrange for the immediate involvement and deployment of State Patrol Cascade Detachment resources, he could. The question was, would Crawford remember a 17-year-old vow to be there for Simon, to help him if it were in his power to do so?

He had every reason to hope so. Back when he was a freshman detective, Crawford's high-school age daughter, Suzan, had been found dead, brutally murdered on the Rainier University campus. The killer went undetected until finally, the case was relegated to the cold case files. It looked as though the killer had gotten away scot-free – that is until Simon had taken up the case in his off-duty hours. His dogged determination to find the killer of his friend's daughter had consumed his free time until, at last, he'd broken the case. The killer was apprehended, tried and convicted, thus providing a great deal of consolation and closure to his grieving friend and fraternity brother.

And Crawford hadn't let him down. With the same dogged determination used to find Suzan's killer, he'd tracked down Ronald Crawford over the phone. After listening to his request, Crawford had been more than willing to get the ball rolling on getting a State Patrol chopper in the Cascade Detachment tapped for the search and rescue efforts.

It was now 9:00 pm, and it was a race against the clock. According to the latest updates, there were now some search and rescue efforts being tentatively initiated at the disaster site before the weather turned significantly more severe, but Simon knew as well as Jim did that Jim's extraordinary abilities employed now would be Sandburg's best bet of being found alive, if indeed he was still alive.

Simon continued to watch Jim, as Jim watched the chopper. Jim had stopped pacing and was now standing stock still staring out the window as the sleet fell outside. It looked to Simon as though he were on the verge of a zone-out. _Not this again! _

"Jim!" Simon hissed urgently. Nothing. "Jim!" Simon repeated. The Major Crime captain breathed a sigh of relief when Jim tore his gaze away from the window and looked at him.

"What is it, Simon?"

"Looks like we may be leaving soon." Simon gestured with his head towards the figure approaching them. It was Captain Whitman, commander of the Washington State Patrol, Cascade Detachment. Jim looked impossibly even more tense than he had a minute before, and Simon knew Jim was bracing himself to hear news that the flight had been called off.

As if he'd read the other man's mind, Whitman said, "Relax, gentlemen, you'll be out of here in the next five minutes. Robert's my best pilot, so you'll be in good hands."

Simon extended his hand to Whitman. "Detective Ellison and I both thank you. If there's anything I can ever do for you…"

Whitman gave Simon a firm handshake and addressed both men. "I'll be sure and give you a call." Whitman ran a hand through his silver-streaked, dark hair. "You've got a powerful friend to make this happen for you, Captain Banks. I wouldn't be authorizing this flight otherwise."

"Thank you, Captain Whitman." Jim also extended his hand to the State Patrol officer, and Captain Whitman shook it. From outside, Robert gave the thumbs up signal, indicating that his passengers should proceed with boarding.

"Hope you find your missing man." With those parting words, Whitman went over to the window, while Simon and Jim grabbed their belongings and headed outside. Jim dialed down his hearing to protect his ears from the loud noise of the chopper's whirling blades.

Once inside the chopper, the men buckled themselves in and braced themselves for lift off. Robert skillfully guided the chopper into the air and as he did so, Jim leaned close to the window and looked one last time at the building they had just exited. Captain Whitman was still standing at the window, gazing upward at the airborne chopper. His lips moved and Jim, with his enhanced sight, easily read the words uttered: _Godspeed. _

_*******_

_**Ira**_

_There was a strange howling – a sound of some beast in unrelenting agony. That sound sliced through the layers of sound sleep and pierced the soul of the exhausted man upstairs. Gaius' eyes flew open, and he looked around in a state of profound confusion and disquiet. There was no doubt about what he'd heard. It was the howl of an animal, but there was nothing in the room that could possibly explain either the sound, or the overwhelming feeling that someone whom he had a duty to protect was in distress and needed his help. Had something happened to his sword brothers?_

_Driven by an urge he couldn't understand, but so strong he couldn't deny it, Gaius rose from his sleeping pallet, wrapped the bed cloth around his waist, and staggered down the stairs. He had no idea where he was going. He was operating on pure instinct, and that instinct led him unknowingly straight to Aaron's reception room. _

_The nearer he drew to the room located at the front of the house, the more the instinct to protect grew until it merged into a groundswell of sound that nearly overwhelmed him with its frantic beating pace. Standing in the doorway, Gaius instantly pinpointed the strange thumping beats as coming from a half-hidden body crumpled on the floor, surrounded by Eitel, Martinus, and a man Gaius did not know. The men surrounding the unmoving form looked up in astonishment at the spectacle of Gaius half-naked and swaying in the doorway. _

_As for Gaius, he knew an instant before his eyes saw, that the man on the floor was he who had called him back from The Void. Gaius remembered that his name was Jacob, and clearly, something had happened to him. His eyes grew hard, and his jaw clenched with tension. The urge to kill and protect was strong and frightening. It propelled him forward on legs that no longer seemed unsteady. _

_Gaius closed the gap between himself and Jacob on long legs. Then he dropped to his knees beside the young man and with a care never before witnessed by his sword brothers, gathered the unconscious man tenderly in his arms and held him against his chest. _

_The men looking on were astounded. Eitel and Martinus looked at each other, shocked by Gaius' sudden entrance into the room, and by the reserved man's uncommon show of concern for the stranger. Gaius paid them no heed. Instead, he proceeded to check the young man's body for injuries, though none were apparent. Finding nothing, Gaius finally looked up with eyes that no longer held the killing coldness that Eitel and Martinus knew in battle. "What happened to him?"_

_Aaron looked both pained and angry. "Take your hands off him. Your friends confessed how you went to Bethlehem and murdered innocent baby boys on the word of the mad-man whom you serve!"_

_Gaius' face blanched, but he answered his host's accusation without letting go of Jacob. "There is no infant blood on my hands, and whatever these men have done under orders, they took no pleasure in it." _

_The younger man gave his older companions a penetrating stare, his expression inscrutable. Then he turned his gaze back to Aaron, for he did not need to look in the faces of Eitel and Martinus to receive confirmation of the veracity of his next statement: "These men have risked their lives to save mine. I know Drufus, our captain, would have ordered my death and my body left behind when I... I lost myself after we were ordered to go to Bethlehem." _

_Gaius flushed with remembered shame of the times the strange condition had come upon him and the resulting humiliation and punishment Drufus had inflicted on him for something he neither understood nor could help. Gaius pushed back the memories and continued, "They know that they can never return to Judea because they defied Drufus' orders and left without authority to bring me to safety." _

_Gaius turned his attention back to the young man in his arms who, by now, was beginning to stir. Jacob opened his eyes, and it was his turn to see a pair of blue eyes, set in a kind face, looking down at him. Instead of looking reassured as Gaius had hoped, a look of sheer terror crossed the youthful features. Jacob pulled himself up and away from Gaius, and looked shakily and with confusion at his uncle. Aaron took his nephew by the arm and sat him down on the couch while Gaius slowly got to his feet and made his way unsteadily across the room where he leaned heavily against the wall. _

_Gaius watched the shaken man silently staring at him and clearly struggling to compose himself. The sight of Jacob sitting miserably on the couch disturbed Gaius greatly but he did not know why. Jacob had looked at him in fear. Other men often had. Gaius' stern face had been the last thing many a man had seen before they'd died, pierced on the end of his sword in battle. But this was different. He had no wish to harm the younger man. He felt fiercely protective of him and he understood intuitively that this man fearing him was wrong._

_His mind in turmoil, Gaius' weakness returned, causing his shoulders to slump forward, and his eyes to close wearily. The darkness was creeping up, threatening to render him just as unconscious as Jacob had been moments before. His limbs trembled, and through his intense weariness, he heard Jacob's words clearly, as though they were shouted, even though his voice was no more than the barest whisper, and too low for ordinary ears to hear from that distance: "You are a murderer of infants."_

_With all his will, Gaius held on to consciousness as he forced his eyes open. He held the _

_stricken blue eyes with his own when he replied in a loud voice, "Upon my life, I swear to you that I took no lives that night, nor have I ever slaughtered woman or child."_

_Jacob gasped aloud in shocked surprise that Gaius had heard him. There was a measured pause, then a whispered response: "Why should I believe you?" _

"_I do not lie."_

_Another pause, more thoughtful in nature followed, then: "Do you see the embroidery on the wall hanging behind me?"_

"_Yes."_

"_Can you read?"_

"_Yes."_

"_Read for me what it says."_

_Somewhere deep within him, Gaius found the strength to look where Jacob indicated. He saw the wall hanging that was no larger than a man's head, with small words embroidered in Hebrew. His heart was stricken when he read the words, first silently and then aloud. "It is a psalm. It says, 'He will rescue them from oppression and violence, for precious is their blood in His sight.'"_

_After a moment that seemed to Gaius to stretch into eternity, Jacob nodded his head in quiet acceptance that Gaius had told him the truth in all things. Overcome with a sense of profound relief, Gaius sagged weakly against the wall and would have fallen down completely, save for Martinus' brawny arm grabbing him and holding him upright._

_Aaron had watched the interplay between his nephew and the soldier in rapt amazement, his face so eloquently communicating his complete bafflement at how it was possible for the other man to hear Jacob's whispered words from across the room. Now he stepped in front of Jacob and placed his hand protectively on his shoulder. _

"_Are you all right?"_

"_I am well, Uncle."_

_Relieved, Aaron demanded, "What manner of man is he that he can see and hear so far?"_

"_He is a Zakif. His senses are superior to ordinary men's." Jacob grabbed his uncle's hand. "Please don't send Gaius away. He is still weak from his ordeal. He needs food and rest." _

"_I have made my decision, Jacob." Aaron turned around and addressed the three soldiers. "Eitel, Martinus – the two of you will leave this house and Ira tomorrow morning. Gaius may remain."_

"_It will be as you wish," Eitel replied. "Now we will take Gaius back to the room." The blond soldier took his place on the other side of Gaius and together, he and Martinus all but carried the exhausted man upstairs._

_After a while, Jacob rose from the couch, bid his uncle goodnight, and made his way wearily to his own small room. He was mentally exhausted from the day's revelations, and the trauma inflicted from being ambushed by the terrible memories of Jerusalem. Still, his heart sang for joy. He'd found what he had longed for so long to prove existed: a human being with the extraordinary gift of enhanced senses. He smiled as he stripped off his outer garments until only the inner Kethoneth made of linen remained. When he fell upon his pallet, the smile that graced his face remained even as he closed his eyes and slipped into a deep and peaceful sleep. _

_*******_

_In the morning, the sun's rays rolled back the night, bringing with it a crisp, refreshing light breeze that blew gently across the troubled land. This was the time when the women of Ira set out to the wells with their sturdy water jugs to fetch water for their respective households. The water wells provided a place for socializing for most of the village women, but not for the women of Aaron's household. Aaron's property contained its own cistern thus making it unnecessary for the women to make the trek down to the village well. _

_Still, the women in Aaron's household enjoyed fetching the water in groups of twos or threes whenever possible, so that they too could snatch the opportunity for exchanging gossip away from the grind of the indoor work. Occasionally, they were joined by female guests at the inn, who happened to be traveling with their families. _

_It was Jacob's young cousin Rachel's turn, on this quiet, peaceful morning, to fetch water before assisting the other women of the household in starting a fire for the oven and preparing the dough to bake bread. The young girl, much to her delight, was not alone on this morning, for she had been joined by the inn's lone female guest, a young woman named Maryam who'd been their guest for two days now while her handsome, older husband, who was a skilled carpenter, earned money for the rest of their journey._

_In truth, Maryam was only a few years older than Rachel, but the shy, gentle girl who had arrived from Bethlehem was both a married woman and a mother with a baby boy at her breast. Rachel, who had instantly warmed to her, perceived Maryam fully as an adult, so she was especially thrilled that the other wanted to spend time with her. To have her along to talk to while filling and hauling back the heavy water jar was something to which she looked forward to._

_Thus the two young girls, completely innocent and oblivious to the drama that had occurred the night before under their very roof, were laughing and smiling, exchanging stories and tales, especially of Maryam's travel to and from Bethlehem as they made their way across the courtyard and to the inn's entrance. And it happened that just when Eitel and Martinus, who had said their good byes to Gaius, came around the corner, they heard part of the girls' conversation. _

_The ex-soldiers' attire had been cleaned and repaired overnight, and having no other clothing to fit their large frames, they had no choice but to redress in the uniforms they no longer wanted as they readied themselves to depart Ira to return to the land where they were born. Armed, rested and fairly clean, the two men looked every inch Herod's loyal soldiers._

_Maryam's eyes met and locked with those belonging to those of Eitel and Martinus. The ex-soldiers in turn, having heard Maryam tell the young girl with her that she and her husband had come from Bethlehem a mere five nights month ago, locked startled eyes with the young woman, alternating their gazes from her to the babe in her arms and back again. In a single moment that seemed to stretch into eternity, Maryam's countenance changed from young and open to shocked terror with a mother's intuition of extreme peril. She began to wail aloud in terror as she gripped the child closer still. Rachel's blood ran cold and though the two men had made no hostile move towards her new friend, she too, let out a yell. "Get away from her!" she cried out, frightened for Maryam and the baby. _

_The bone chilling screaming and yelling garnered the attention of Mica and some of the other male servants who were going about their tasks outside. They picked up whatever was handy to fashion for themselves weapons, and like a gang of mad dogs, they ran over and surrounded the two men, ready to wield their clubs to maim and destroy the symbols of much that they hated. Eitel and Martinus, seeing that they were about to be set upon by a group of angry, dangerous men, stood back to back and drew out their swords. They had no desire to fight, but they would defend their lives if needs be._

_The men continued to advance on Eitel and Martinus. Just when it appeared that a violent confrontation was imminent, there was another loud ruckus as the front door was yanked open and Aaron, followed by Jacob and Gaius, barreled out. _

_The three men had no idea what had happened, but to a man, they sensed the tension, the depth of hostilities that was on the verge of erupting into violence. Desperate to control his servants, Aaron placed his portly frame in front of the angry men, held up his hands in a placating manner saying, "Peace! Peace! Put down your weapons. Go back to your work." The angry men lowered their weapons but made no move to leave. "Now!" Aaron commanded sternly. _

_At the same time, Gaius spoke to his sword brothers standing resolutely before him. "Put your weapons away," he said in a low, calm voice. Eitel and Martinus slowly lowered their swords, then sheathed them. Aaron used his anger to cover his fear at what had very nearly occurred. "What is the meaning of this?" he demanded of the two deserters. _

_Eitel and Martinus exchanged looks. "They saw us and then they screamed," Eitel replied simply. "We heard this woman talking to the girl about how her family fled Bethlehem five days ago." _

"_So?" Aaron challenged._

"_So nothing!" Eitel snapped. "We were ordered to Bethlehem six days ago – you know the rest."_

_Jacob, who had been standing silently observing everything, stepped forward. His curiosity had gotten the better of him, and so he turned to the trembling young woman with the baby in her arms. _

"_Maryam," he inquired gently in his most soothing voice, "why did you flee Bethlehem five days ago?"_

_If it were possible, Maryam's trembling appeared to increase. "It came to my husband in a dream, a warning that our son's life was in danger. We fled that very night," she said, her voice little more than a soft whisper._

_Jacob looked at Maryam, and he knew without knowing that she had not told him everything. His curiosity increased even more, and he had a nearly overwhelming desire to see for himself, the baby in her arms. "May I please hold your baby?" _

_Maryam looked into the countenance of the man standing before her. The wide blue eyes set in an exquisite face communicated both innocence and knowledge of suffering. Her trembling slowed, then ceased altogether as she held out the sleeping infant and gently placed him in Jacob's arms. As she did so, Gaius came and stood behind him, a silent tower of strength._

_Jacob stared down in silent wonder upon the child in his arms. In his head, he did not recall ever having seen a more beautiful baby. In his heart, he knew he had not. "What is your son's name?" he asked gently._

_The brown eyes that looked up at him were filled with immeasurable, profound love that had no end. "We call him, 'Yeshua'."_

**Washington State Patrol, Wolf Lodge Detachment**

Robert set the chopper down with the practiced ease of one who could do so in his sleep. This far east, there was already a coat of snow on the ground at least two inches thick – a gift from the early stages of the impending snowstorm. Every now and then, a gust of wind blew through, buffeting the chopper and making the snow swirl madly as it fell to the ground.

Jim and Simon made a dash into yet another state patrol detachment building. The two men stood still, looking around and getting their bearings after the flight. Thankfully, this detachment building was just as warm as the last they'd been in. Evidence of good holiday cheer in the form of garlands, wreaths, and a real tree was everywhere in tasteful quantities. All this holiday cheer stood in stark contrast to the somber attitude of the men and women inside, most of whom had been recalled to work on this Christmas Eve, due to the disaster. None had complained though. These officers had each responded to the emergency call with swift dedication. Some of their number were stationed a quarter mile on either side of the rockslide, while the remaining men and women at the station sat playing a wearying game of "hurry up and wait".

They looked up with great interest the moment the back door opened and two large men, one white, the other black, stepped inside. The two men brushed the clinging snow from their coats, took off their hats, and placed their bags by the door. These were the law enforcement officers their captain, Paul Rolph, had informed them would be arriving via helicopter from the Cascade detachment.

The nearest officer, Sergeant Walton, leapt up, extended a hand and made quick introductions. Then he led Ellison and Banks to his captain's office. The sergeant knocked on the closed door, and the authoritative voice inside responded, "Come in."

"Sir… Captain Banks and Detective Ellison from the Cascade Police Department."

A burly-looking man in his mid-fifties rose from behind his desk, hand extended.

"Captain Rolph. Pleased to meet you." Ellison and Banks, in turn, returned the handshake.

"Same here, though we both would have wished for better circumstances," Simon replied as he sized the other captain up.

"Coffee, gentlemen?"

"No thank you, Captain. If it's all the same to you, my boss and I would appreciate that ride up to the disaster area," Jim stated flatly.

Simon shot Jim a warning look.

As if he'd not heard the Cascade detective, Captain Rolph moved over to his private coffee mess and got out two coffee mugs. "Please, have a seat," he invited in an offer-you-can't-refuse tone of voice. Rolph understood these two men all too well. One of their own was out there, possibly injured. Probably dead. If it were one of his people, he'd do no less.

A moment later, Banks, Ellison and Rolph were seated, coffee mugs in hand.

Rolph spoke. "The best we can do for you is to give you a ride up to the emergency road block located about a quarter mile away from the actual rockslide. I'm sure you are aware that official search and rescue efforts haven't started yet, because, according to the experts, things are still very, very unstable. The snowstorm isn't helping things either. So... what exactlyis it you men hope to accomplish?"

Jim stared straight ahead, his voice firm and unwavering. "I need to find my friend. Whatever it takes."

Captain Rolph looked into the steely blue eyes of the man in front of him, and he knew that there was nothing over, on, or beneath the earth that would stop him from looking for his friend. Rolph shifted his gaze from the detective to the captain sitting next to him.

"Are you saying that you would risk your lives, risk possible arrest, maybe even the loss of your careers, by disobeying police authority to trespass beyond the established safety parameters?"

There was silence while the two captains exchanged measured looks.

Then from Simon came a solid, "Whatever it takes."

* * *

**I'd love it if the folks who are reading this would leave a shout-out. : )**


	11. Chapter 11

**Note: Thank you, so much HyperMint for reading and commenting. Regarding Gaius and Jacob - lol- no they are much closer than relatives of Jim and Blair! I think if you keep on this journey you will understand the story more clearly. ; )**

_**Ira**_

_Rachel, Maryam and the baby had long gone inside the house. Mica and the other male servants had dispersed, sent back to their work by the upset master of the house, leaving Jacob, Gaius, Eitel and Martinus outside. This time, there was a final farewell as well as a warning as Eitel and Martinus spoke with Gaius. __"__Gaius, our oath to your father has been fulfilled, but if you return to Judea as you say you intend, then Drufus will not stop until he has destroyed you. His hatred of you feeds his soul. Even now, he could be looking for you,__"__ Eitel warned gravely. _

"_I do not fear Drufus. He does not have the authority to take my life.__"_

"_What he wants, he will do in secret; when the night comes __–__ away from the light of day,__"__ Martinus growled. __"__Have you already forgotten how he ordered us to abandon you to certain death after the fit came upon you, and you lay bleeding from the wound in your side? He knew those villagers would have torn your body limb from limb to avenge what we had been ordered to do.__"_

"_I have not forgotten, brothers, nor will I ever forget what you have given up to save my life,__"__ Gaius replied softly, with much respect in his voice. But then his voice turned cold and there was no warmth in his eyes when he added, __"__I must return, then I will expose Drufus__'__ treachery. Do you think he will escape punishment from those who rank over him for the cowardly act of abandoning his own man?__"_

_When Jacob, who had been standing by listening, heard Gaius declare his intention to return to Judea, he felt his heart sink. He walked away and sat beneath a tree, thinking. His mind was in turmoil. Would Gaius leave right away? But Eitel and Martinus clearly believed that Gaius__'__ life would be in danger if he were to return to his service in Herod__'__s army. Jacob pondered why would he want to continue serving the evil ruler in any event. And what about himself? He longed to study this man, to get to know him and understand the strange connection he felt whenever he was near him. Many of the learned men he__'__d spoken to about Zakifs also referred to a companion. A being called a Madreech __–__ a Guide, whose duty it was to remain at the Zakif__'__s side to bring him back from The Void whenever necessary. Was that what he was meant to be to Gaius? The terror the idea of returning to Jerusalem, much less any land under Herod the Great__'__s jurisdiction, evoked rose to the surface far too quickly, and he pushed it away in an attempt to calm his mind. _

_Just as Jacob made up his mind to take some time later that day to pray and meditate, the young man saw Eitel and Martinus, one after the other, clasp Gauis__'__Gaius__'__ forearm in a gesture of brotherhood and farewell. When the two men departed at last, they left behind forever Ira, their bloody service under King Herod the Great, and the son of their sword brother who stood without moving, gazing after them. _

"_Jacob,__"__ Samuel__'__s incessant voice called. When he received no answer, the younger children began to giggle, and Rachel sternly hushed them. Samuel again called his older cousin__'__s name in a vain attempt to get his attention. On the third try, he was successful. The young teacher looked startled, then he blushed with embarrassment at having been caught daydreaming in front of his charges. It had been a long, eventful morning, and Jacob__'__s mind had been uncharacteristically preoccupied with other matters. _

"_What did you say?__"__ There was more tittering. _

"_I said, the answer is Jonathan and David.__"__ Samuel waited expectantly for the approving acknowledgement that he had answered Jacob__'__s riddle correctly. _

"_Correct,__"__ Jacob answered vaguely, not even looking at the boy._

_Samuel__'__s face showed his disappointment at his teacher__'__s lackluster response and when Jacob saw it, he sighed, feeling guilty. __"__Forgive me, Samuel. I have something weighing on my mind this morning.__"__ He got up from his cushions on the floor and beckoned his younger cousins to do the same. __"__The lessons are over for today. Go and find your father. He has work for each of you.__"__ The young cousins quickly gathered up their materials and departed, leaving Jacob alone. After a moment, he too departed. _

_It was midday, and the heat was at its most oppressive, hottest state. It was not the custom to eat at this time, but Jacob, knowing that Gaius was still weak, went in search of a plate of fruit and a cup of water to bring to the recovering man. _

_Refreshment in hand, he went to the guest apartment where Gaius was staying. When he entered the room, he found the other man upon his pallet in a light sleep. The young man sat down quietly by his side and studied Gaius__'__ face with a great deal of satisfaction. It had only been one day since the Zakif had come back to himself after having spent three days lost in The Void, but already his face had shed the drawn, ill look caused by days without nourishment and adequate hydration. _

_As if sensing Jacob__'__s presence, Gaius stirred and opened his eyes. He quickly sat up when he saw it was Jacob. __"__Are you well?__"__ he inquired._

_Jacob smiled at that. __"__Yes, but it is I who should be asking you about the state of your health.__"__ Gaius did not immediately answer, but stretched his neck muscles and flexed those in his arms before getting up to stretch his back and legs. He turned a contented face towards Jacob and replied, __"__My strength has returned.__"_

"_You still need to eat and drink. Here.__"__ Jacob handed over the plate and cup, and Gaius gratefully accepted them. The two men sat in companionable silence as Gaius consumed the food. _

_When he was finished, Gaius thanked him. Then, Jacob gathered up the plate and empty cup and stood up. __"__Walk with me?__"__ Gaius readily agreed, eager to leave the confines of the inn. Thus, walking side by side, the young Israelite with the wide blue eyes and the tall, stern- faced soldier from King Herod__'__s army departed the dwelling, crossed the courtyard and began to negotiate the narrow, twisting streets until the number of closely-packed crude structures along either side started to thin out. _

_Jacob burned with curiosity, and he could no longer contain his thirst to know more about the Zakif. The first question tumbled from his lips as he fairly bounced alongside the much taller man: __"__Gaius, have you always known you had these extraordinary gifts?__"_

"_They are no gifts, Jacob,__"__ Gaius answered resentfully. _

"_But to be able to see the eagle flying overhead and count the feathers on his wing__…__ to be able to hear where the animal you hunt is before it can even smell you-__"_

"_I tell you, they are a curse that have plagued my life since I was a young boy,__"__ Gaius interrupted angrily. He could not help himself. Memories of being beaten as a young boy, ostracized and feared for being different, came to mind all too easily. He__'__d been called demon possessed, mad. In truth, there were many times, even now when he thought he truly would go mad. _

_And there were other thoughts that filled him with terror whenever he dwelled on them. Memories of painful spikes and agonizing headaches that came from hearing sudden noises and sounds that were much too loud. Clothes and blankets that felt fine one moment and then the next would make his skin break out and itch until he thought he would scratch the skin off of his body._

_To his astonishment, he found himself sharing those painful truths with Jacob. Gaius was an exceedingly private man. He had learned through great suffering to never speak of those things, not even to Eitel and Martinus whom he trusted with his life. The older man was angry, worn down by having to suppress the constant fear of losing control, and of being responsible for the death of another, or of being injured himself. His hatred of what his condition had done to his life and to his relationships burned deep inside. _

_As always, whenever he talked of his father, Felix, there was the wound on his soul that was thinly crusted over, but never seem to really heal. __"__My father could not hide the shame he felt when the fits would come upon me,__"__ Gaius confessed bitterly. _

"_The Void,__"__ Jacob murmured the correction distractedly for he was deeply troubled by the sorrow and anger Gaius was expressing over the way he had and was still suffering for what he believed God himself had given him._

"_When I was a youth, I vowed to make myself into a man my father could proudly call his son. I trained hard, and my body grew strong. When the time was right, I left my father and my younger brother and went to Rome. There I served Caesar Augustus in his army. I won respect and rank in battle, first as a leader of a few in a contubernium, and then as a leader of many as a Centurion.__"__ Gaius fell silent, looking far away._

_The two men stopped walking, and Jacob took Gaius by the arm and gestured with the other towards a low wall made of stone where they could both be seated. Joseph glanced at Gaius, but the other man remained silent. __"__What happened?__"__ he prompted encouragingly._

"_I dishonored myself, Rome, and my father when I fell into The Void during battle. Men whose lives I was responsible for, died because I could no longer lead them,__"__ Gaius stated tonelessly. _

"_If you had been killed in battle, your men still would have been without you. Surely what happened was not of your doing and there is no dishonor.__"__ Jacob was quick to intercede, anxious to mitigate his new friend__'__s pain._

"_That was not the opinion of the senior Centurion. He accused me of disobeying orders, and he petitioned the general to have me flogged at the least, beheaded at worst.__"_

_Jacob shuddered. _

_Gaius gave a grim, humorless smile. __"__I was not flogged, nor as you can see, beheaded. My men spoke for me and instead, I was ordered to go to Judea and serve in King Herod__'__s army as a soldier of the lowest rank. I thought I knew what Hades was, but when Drufus became my captain, I knew the true meaning then.__"_

_Jacob stared at him, dreading but needing to hear what Gaius wished to share. __"__What did he do to you?__"__ he choked out._

_Gaius closed his eyes, __"__What did he not do?__"__ He opened his eyes and this time when he spoke, some of the anger inside had leeched out and was replaced by a profound sense of despair. __"__Before I left Rome, I went to a temple to pray to the gods of my father. I swore to serve them the rest of my days if they would only deliver me from this curse. The gods did not grant my petition and so I... I began to think of taking my own life. Why should I continue to be alone, feared and made to suffer in this curse?__"__ The shame Gaius felt at making such an admission was obvious. _

_Jacob was horrified. The revulsion he felt at the idea of ending one__'__s own life ran deeper than the teachings of his own culture. To know that Gaius__'__ mind had strayed towards that path, may very well still be inclined towards it, chilled him to the core. His mind desperately searched for the right words to respond. __"__Gaius, you are not alone. I once sat at the feet of foreign princes and wise men from lands far away. There __**are**__ others who have such senses.__"_

"_If they suffer as I have, then I pity them.__"_

"_That is what I am trying to tell you, Gaius. They are the tribal protectors, respected, not feared for their gifts,__"__ Jacob replied, his youthful face open and earnest. __"__Somehow they have learned to find a way to live in harmony with their senses.__"_

_For the first time since the conversation began, Gaius felt a faint stirring of hope in his heart. If what Jacob said was true, perhaps there was a way for him to gain mastery over himself. Gaius found the courage to ask, __"__What is this way you speak of? How can I__…__?__"_

"_I don__'__t know,__"__ Jacob interrupted gently, __"__but I swear to you, I will find it. Only you must swear an oath to me in return.__"_

"_What oath do you wish to bind me with when you do not know where to find that which you seek?__"__ Gaius asked warily. _

"_I will_ _find it,__"__ Jacob repeated. _

_Gaius looked down unto the face that communicated such unquestionable determination, and in that moment, despite all that he had endured, the older man believed Jacob wholly. _

"_You must promise me that you will never seek to end the life that God gave you. It was given to you for a purpose and He alone has numbered your days.__"_

_Gaius changed the subject without answering, an act that did not escape Jacob__'__s notice, but he chose to not press the older man. __"__How do you know there is only one God? If you can__'__t see him, he doesn__'__t exist,__"__ declared Gaius._

_For a moment Jacob thought Gaius was mocking him, but when he saw the serious set of the other man__'__s face, he knew it was not so. _

"_People say that you don__'__t exist, yet here you are.__"_

_Gaius considered that for a moment, then a slight smile broke across the stern visage and he replied, __"__Here I am.__"_

**US I-90**

**45 Minutes ETA**

Simon Banks looked back at the face of the sleeping man in the back seat of the patrol car as the trooper, who had been assigned to drive them up to the site of the rockslide, continued to carefully steer the car on the icy road. The car's rocking motion and warm enclosed space had managed to do what Simon could not: make Jim relax and actually get some rest from the stress. But the sleep Jim was currently experiencing was far from restful as evidenced by the restless way his closed eyes were moving back and forth and from the occasional indiscernible mutterings he emitted.

When Jim had climbed into the back seat and settled in, he'd had no intention of sleeping, but all too soon a warm lethargy had crept upon him, lulling him to sleep. And so Jim dreamed. He dreamed of an animal with lupine eyes limping slowly around a still form of a man lying crumpled in the snow. The animal, which he now saw was a wolf, staggered and lay down next the body, pushing at it with its nose and whining weakly. In his dream, the view shifted and now he was looking into the face of the man lying as still as death. The face, almost devoid of all color save the slight tinge of blue to his lips, was Blair's. In his warped version of reality, huge buzzards circled about in patient anticipation of an impending feast.

Jim's eyes snapped open suddenly, panic on his face as he sat up abruptly. "Simon, we have to hurry!" he gasped out. "Blair's alive, but he doesn't have much time."

"The man is driving as fast as he can, Jim, but he has to be careful. It won't do us any good to end up in a ditch." Simon wisely kept his doubts about Blair being still alive to himself, but he asked Jim the critical question anyway. "You're sure about this, aren't you, Jim? That Blair is there and still alive?"

There was no hesitation in the response whatsoever. "Yes, Simon. As sure as you and I are alive, I'm sure Blair is too."

Through the rear view mirror, the state patrol officer driving the car dared to steal a look at the intense man riding in the back. Steely blue eyes that seemed to cut like blades met his, and he quickly shifted his attention back to the road. The driver's foot unconsciously pressed the accelerator and the car continued its journey up the icy road.

_**Jerusalem**_

_Drufus roughly pushed the warm, naked body of the whore he__'__d slaked his lust with away from him. Dead to the world from too much wine and exertion, the exotic woman merely sighed and resumed her gentle snoring upon the furs, surrounded on all sides with many pillows and blankets._

_Someone had called his name, rousing him from his sleep. The captain looked around fuzzily. When he saw the shadow of a man outlined against the tent, he stealthily reached for his sword, unsheathed it, and rose naked from the pallet. __"__Show yourself,__"__ he demanded with cold arrogance._

_The tent flap was pushed aside and a small, shifty man with a scarred face stepped through. __"__Eliphaz,__"__ Drufus greeted him. He leaned his sword against the wall of the whore__'__s tent behind him, and with a casualness that belied his tension, he lifted a sheet from the pallet and wrapped it around his waist. He did not sheath his sword. _

_Eliphaz leered at the sleeping whore and grinned with broken teeth at Herod__'__s captain. __"__How did I know I would find you here?__"_

"_The same way I pay you well to keep me informed of what my enemies are about,__"__ Drufus replied coldly._

"_Then I am about to be well paid for what I know.__"_

"_You are about to have your head removed from your neck if you do not tell me quickly why you are here.__"__ Drufus brought the tip of his sword up to the man__'__s neck, moving it in a dangerous caress._

_Before Drufus could react, Eliphaz pulled his own sword, and his eyes flashed with a hint of insanity teasing around the edges. __"__Put your sword away or I__'__ll see to it your enemies feast on your entrails.__"_

_The men stood locked in tense confrontation until Drufus grinned nastily. With a grim chuckle, he lowered his sword. Eliphaz quickly followed suit._

_With an arrogance unmatched, Eliphaz reclined next to the sleeping whore and began running his hands through her long, sable hair before speaking, his tone mocking. __"__It is said that King Herod sent you and seventeen men on a simple assignment of assassination in a poor town of unarmed Jews, but when you returned, you were three men short because two became deserters and the third died on his own sword at the hands of a hysterical mother.__"_

_Annoyed, Drufus confirmed the inaccurate report. __"__The deserters, Eitel and Martinus, will be found, and I will take great pleasure in cutting off a hand from each after they have been flogged.__"_

"_Ah... and the third?__"__ Eliphaz inquired slyly._

"_Why do you ask after a corpse?__"_

"_There is the matter of why you did not bring back his body as was proper __–__ a dishonorable act under the circumstances, and a punishable offense by your general, not to mention Gaius__'__ father, Felix.__"_

"_I left the two soldiers behind and ordered them to see to the body of Gaius Felix Justus,__"__ Drufus lied. __"__They chose instead to become deserters.__"_

_Eliphaz held up his hand. __"__Before you utter another half-truth, let me tell you what I __**know**__.__"__ He paused to plant a kiss upon the unsuspecting lips of the woman. __"__You did not order your men to stay behind in order to bring back the body of your dead soldier. You ordered them to abandon your injured, very much alive soldier and see to it that he was killed by the angry mob.__"_

"_And how do you know that?__"__ Drufus savagely inquired. _

"_You__'__ve grown careless, Drufus,__"__ Eliphaz sneered. __"__One of your men overheard you. His drunken ramblings have reached the ears of your enemies.__"_

_The sight of Drufus clenching his fists in agitation greatly amused Eliphaz. _

"_What care I about the ramblings of a drunken soldier? Who would take his word over mine?__"_

_Eliphaz__'__s next words were calculated to both inform and place a barb in the other man__'__s gut. __"__Why... no one, Drufus. But when it comes to the word of Gaius over yours, that may be another matter.__"_

_Drufus barely managed to hide his shock behind a feigned veil of indifference, but Eliphaz played him expertly. __"__Oh, yes. Gaius, the man you love to torment and left for dead is very much alive __–__ apparently kept so by the very deserters whom you ordered to ensure his demise.__"_

"_Where is he?__"__ Drufus demanded, his face suffused with red. The other man merely smiled and held out his hand. _

_Like a mad man, Drufus reached for his tunic and belt and searched them. When he found the purse of coins, he handed over a generous amount to Eliphaz, who immediately set to counting his gain. Not satisfied with the amount, he held out his hand again. _

_Frustrated, the captain searched the container where the whore had deposited the coin he had paid for her services. He handed over all of the whore__'__s earnings to Eliphaz. After the man counted the money, he gave a satisfied nod._

"_Now tell me, where he is!__"__ Drufus hissed in a rage._

"_Ira,__"__ Elilphaz paused for dramatic effect. __"__His men, who are apparently more loyal to him than to you, took him to Ira, past the Judean border.__"_

"_Ira,__"__ Drufus breathed out in disbelief. _

"_And there is more....__"_

"_I have no more money to give you,__"__ Drufus snarled._

"_You have been most generous tonight,__"__ Eliphaz conceded. __"__This news I give you free of charge: King Herod entrusted you to kill the one spoken of by the prophets. He ordered you to kill every man-child in the town of Bethlehem under the age of two.__"_

"_Of my many deficiencies, failing to follow that order is not one of them,__"__ Drufus announced confidently. _

"_True, and that is why I require no payment for what I am about to tell you. One night before you and your men arrived in Bethlehem, a young couple, a man named Joseph and his wife Maryam, fled Bethlehem.__"_

"_How does that concern me?__"_

"_They left taking their newborn infant son with them.__"__ Then he added with whispered glee, __"__If you hurry, you can catch them __–__ in Ira.__"_

_**Ira**_

_Night fell over Ira. The town slept in peace, much too far away and oblivious to the thundering hooves of the Centurions__'__ horses closing the long distance between it and Jerusalem._

_The next morning the sun rose over the valley. The new day arrived and Ira came to life again. Gaius woke from a sound sleep and found that someone had placed a drink and a plate of bread, fruits and cheese outside his door. Grateful, he took in the offerings and when he had finished his meal, the Zakif sought out the cool waters of the nearby spring in order to cleanse himself. After he accomplished his task, Gaius looked for Jacob, but to his disappointment, he was told that Jacob had arisen with the dawn and gone off by himself for a time. _

_It was then that Gaius__'__ path crossed with that of another of Aaron__'__s guests. Joseph, the husband of Maryam was preparing to walk down to the marketplace where he had found temporary work in an Arab man__'__s shop, employing his considerable carpentry skills. In two more days he would have earned enough money to take his family the rest of the remaining long way to Alexandria. _

_Naturally, he had heard about the frightening and tense confrontation that had occurred the previous day. He had been ready to flee with his family that very night, but the urgent assurances of the unusual young man with the wide blue eyes calmed him until he ceased to think about fleeing._

_In the end, the next day brought with it a chance meeting between the two men, and now Gaius found himself talking, and walking along with Joseph part of the way to the Arab man__'__s shop. Then bidding the other man farewell, Gaius turned around and headed back towards the inn. _

_When Gaius arrived back at the inn, he found the younger of Aaron__'__s children, twins Ezra and Asa, with their youngest sister, Hannah, in tow, playing with a ball and stick in the courtyard. In Jacob__'__s absence, the younger children had been allowed to play while Samuel and Rachel worked for a time in the fields with the other household servants. _

_The children had seen their older cousin, Jacob, walking with the big man and they were intensely curious about this soldier from a land where they__'__d never been. They wanted to walk with him too. All too soon, Gaius found himself surrounded by three loud, enthusiastic children. They would not take __'__no__'__ for an answer to their requests to stay with them, so Gaius found himself alternating between playing ball and telling carefully censured stories of his previous life as a soldier in Rome__'__s army. For a time, he felt a lightheartedness and a freedom he hadn__'__t felt since he was a boy playing with his younger brother in the fields behind his father__'__s house. _

_To his peril, the Zakif clung stubbornly to this happy moment in time, refusing to give heed to the presence of the dull headache caused by the shrill shrieks of the young children. Such headaches were oftentimes a precursor to an impending episode wherein his senses intensified to an agony that drove him to the brink of madness. _

_Much later that day, when the headache was still upon him, he saw Jacob approaching, having returned from his time of meditation and research. Gaius unwisely buried his fear along with the pain and he told Jacob nothing of it. _


	12. Chapter 12

**Present**

Blair remained unmoving from where he'd fallen unconscious. The uncontrollable shivering of his body that had inadvertently served as a soothing rocking motion to Noel gradually slowed until it stopped altogether. Wrapped and confined in Blair's coat, Noel leeched the warmth from Blair's body, but the warmly insulated environment began to slowly cool as her rescuer's core body temperature fell closer and closer to dangerously low levels. Feeling the difference, the tiny infant awoke.

Cold, hungry, and with no one else to see to her needs, Noel cried into the night. The wind carried away her plaintive wails, but only the curious predators took notice.

_**Ira**_

_It was two hours past sundown and as was customary, the men and older boys of Ira gathered for relaxation and fellowship in the designated meeting place under the starlit sky. The oppressive heat of the day was long gone, having gradually been replaced by much cooler air that would eventually give the temperature a sharply contrasting chill. _

_This was the time of evening when either a blanket or the warmer, hooded simlah would be worn over the lighter tunic. The men reclined or sat in a large circle around a roaring fire, exchanging news, humorous tales, and discussing all manner of subject matter from births to deaths and everything in-between. Tonight__'__s opening topic of conversation was the soldiers from King Herod__'__s army whom Aaron, it was rumored, had been forced at the pointy end of a sword to shelter at the inn. _

_The rumors circulated wildly and were embellished until it was said that the one remaining soldier was a spy sent to report back to King Herod to further the king__'__s plan to annex Ira to Judea. Neither Aaron, Jacob, nor Gaius were present. The one man from the inn who was present soon tired of the outrageous statements and he set about dispelling them. He was a simple young man; a quiet man, soft-spoken, who wore his strength and dignity like a cloak about him. When Joseph, husband of Maryam spoke, the other__'__s listened and in the end, the men of Ira were more curious about Herod__'__s soldier, than fearful. _

_Even so, they fell back on tradition and old prejudices in assuming that they would not be seeing him that night. It was understood that soldiers from Herod__'__s army could not expect to be welcomed in their social circle. Finally, an elder spoke the question that was on all of their minds. __"__Where are Aaron and Jacob? Will they be absent from us yet again?__"_

_Joseph raised an eyebrow in amusement as he saw over the shoulder of the older man facing him from across the fire, the three approaching figures of Aaron, Jacob, and Gaius. __"__They come now. Aaron, Jacob, and Gaius Felix Justus.__"_

_The men swiveled around to look, and they stared in stunned silence as Herod__'__s soldier, flanked on either side by Aaron and Jacob, walked over to the circle and sat down. __"__Brothers,__"__ Aaron spoke in greeting. __"__This is Gaius Felix Justus. He is our guest. Be hospitable to him.__"_

_This was followed by much whispering and muttering which gradually died off without anyone having given voice to any challenge to Aaron__'__s demand. Instead, there was talk about an upcoming marriage between the son and daughter of two of the elders. When that topic was exhausted, a few shopkeepers began to complain about the number of incidents of theft and the lapse of morality. The conversation grew animated, and Jacob, hands flying to make his point, was in the thick of it. Bread dipped in a spicy paste was passed around, and men ate their fill. More conversational topics followed until the talking stopped and the singing began._

_Gaius__'__ gaze alternated between the fire and watching Jacob singing. The young man, along with the others, sang with great joy and enthusiasm for life that could not be quashed. Gaius, who had such little experience in such things, felt the contrast keenly. He wanted some of that thirst for life. He wanted Jacob to return to Jerusalem with him and show him how to hold on to that thirst. _

_The headache, which earlier in the day had been a dull annoyance had slowly increased to a distracting throbbing. This time when Gaius looked at the fire, the flames seemed to dance, and the cackling became like a roaring in his ears. The colors suddenly grew unnaturally painfully intense in their color until Gaius, by sheer force of will, tore his gaze away and gave a small shiver. One of the elders signaled to an older boy standing behind Gaius to give up his wool blanket, which he had wrapped around himself. The boy cautiously stepped forward and gently laid the scratchy, ill-used blanket over Gaius, covering his exposed lower arms. _

_After a time, the singing died out, and the ancient form of pondering life__'__s mysteries, by offering in a round, commentaries concerning life, started up. Melea, an elder with a sharp eye and quick wit, rapped his walking stick upon the ground and spoke. __" There__ are three things which causes a good man to become faint of heart. But there are four that will stop a man__'__s heart beating altogether.__"__ The circle of men grew silent as each thought of an answer to offer for the four mysteries. _

"_An empty storehouse at the start of a famine,__"__ one man offered. That set off a round of discussion concerning the suitability of the answer until it died down._

_Gaius took a bite of the bread with the spicy paste and began to chew. Suddenly, his headache flared, and he had the sensation of a vice squeezing his head. _

_Another man opined, __"__A warm bed, a hard rod, and a frigid wife.__"__ This resulted in laughter and much speculation that the speaker spoke from personal experience until the conversation died down._

"_A beautiful unmarried woman with the face of an angel, who has an unmarried older sister with the face of a sow,__"__ another man suddenly offered. _

_The men again roared with laughter and an instant too late, Gaius realized he was in trouble. The sound exploded in his ears, making him dizzy and sick with pain. The clothes and blanket that he had been wearing in comfort moments before now were an unbearable agony, as his skin grew inflamed and irritated. The flavors of the bread in his mouth turned the sensitive flesh inside to hot fire. A moan of pure anguish escaped his lips as Gaius staggered up abruptly, unable to see what was in front of him, yet unable to make sense of the far away things he was able to see down to the smallest insect._

_Shocked, Jacob lunged at Gaius to keep the hurting man from accidentally falling into the fire. __"__Gaius! Gaius!__"__ Jacob called frantically. But Gaius was beyond his reach, his pain too overwhelming. The other men, at first too stunned and frightened by Gaius__'__ apparent sudden demonic possession, scrambled away. Then general chaos broke out as men leaped at Gaius, trying to keep him away from the fire. _

_Jacob, his long chestnut long curls flying loose about his face, fought to hold onto Gaius, pushing him to the ground and keeping him in place with his body as he desperately tried to reach him with soft words of comfort. But the Zakif was howling out his pain, raging against his senses, and tearing his clothes from his body like a madman. And what Gaius did next chilled Jacob__'__s blood and haunted him for the rest of his days. _

_The struggle continued until Gaius threw the much smaller man away from him and stood up, pulling the long dagger from his belt. His bloodless hands clenched the knife in a death-grip, the blade pressed straight at his heart. His act was one last desperate plea to end his humiliating agony. _

"_No! Gaius, no!__"__ Jacob screamed. All movement stopped. Desperate, Jacob closed his eyes and called upon the strength of the only Father he had ever known. _

_Jacob received his answer. _

_In one instant, Gaius and Jacob were only two mortal men facing each other. They stood frozen, eyes locked in silent combat. Then the world shifted, and in the next instant Gaius and Jacob were gone and became only a Madreech standing before his Zakif._

"_Zakif__…"__ The Madreech__'__s soft voice penetrated through the other__'__s raging storm of confusion and pain. _

"_Who are you?__"_

"_You know who I am,__"__ the Madreech intoned. __"__What do you require?__"_

"_Release me from this curse.__"_

"_I will, but death is not your way of escape. Listen to me. Picture in your mind five lit candlewicks. Do you see them, my Zakif?__"_

"_Yes.__"_

"_Give unto each candle the name of one of your senses. Do you see the candle called __'__hear?__'"_

"_Yes.__"_

"_Using the power of your mind, decrease the length of the wick by allowing the candle to burn down. When you do this, the sounds that even now cause you pain will do so no more.__"_

_The Zakif did as he was told and one by one, the Madreech took him through each sense until all the out-of-control senses that had brought the Zakif to the end of a dagger returned to normal. When the blessed relief and peace came to the Zakif, the man Gaius returned to himself and beheld the man Jacob standing before him. Tears of joy and relief were streaming down the young man__'__s face. _

_Slowly, Gaius lowered his hands and unclenched his fists from around the dagger, which fell harmlessly to the ground. Now tears of joy and relief were streaming from his eyes as well. They spoke no words; none were required. The two men were now bound together in brotherhood, strengthened by something stronger and older that would endure even the sands of time._

_Gaius and Jacob remained standing where they were, oblivious to Aaron__'__s frenzied attempts to disband the circle. The richest man in Ira was desperate to put an end to the scandalous scene and prevent tongues from wagging excessively. Aaron breathed a sigh of relief as he saw the success of his efforts, for seeing that Gaius had returned to himself and was calm, the other men and older boys began to shuffle off, muttering to themselves about Herod__'__s foreign devils. _

_That night, Jacob dreamed. He was in the place of his worst nightmare: Jerusalem, in King Herod__'__s palace. He was defenseless, frightened at the vision of Herod. The tyrant stood before him, a whip in his hand, his bloated face grinning in evil anticipation of the stripes he would lay across his back. At any moment, he would be seized and his skin ripped from his body._

_Nearly overcome with terror, Jacob felt his heart beating with great force and speed until he thought it would burst from his chest. But suddenly he felt a presence of something strong and powerful behind him, eventually moving to stand alongside of him. It was Gaius. Gaius stood wordlessly between him and Herod, and his eyes burned with deadly cold fury. In his dream, the king dropped the whip and fled before the Zakif. _

_Unlike Jacob, Gaius slept deeply and dreamlessly. When he rose to greet the morning, it was with half fear and dread that his newfound control over his senses was only a cruel, fleeting illusion. He was eager to see Jacob again. He __**needed**__ to confirm that what had happened the night before was real and that the chains and shackles created by the pain and ignorance of who and what he was were gone, banished forever by the bond of Zakif and Madreech. _

_And that was not all Gaius had on his mind. The call upon his heart to return to Jerusalem was grower stronger. There was his father to consider. Gaius did not know what his father had been told concerning his absence. Had he been falsely branded a deserter and thus his father needed him to return and remove the shame that surely stained his house? Or worse, did Felix believe him to be dead? Though many harsh words and wounded feelings had been exchanged between them, Gaius loved his father and still clung to the hope that one day, his father too would return his love. _

_There was also Drufus who had found Gaius a particularly convenient target for the attentions of his cruel nature. The desire to avenge the wrongs, to repay evil with evil beckoned like a siren. He did not know if he had the strength to turn his back on it, but he had the wisdom to not wish for his thirst for vengeance to end with his soul__'__s destruction. _

_Then there was Jacob. The paths of their lives had become inextricably bound together. Gaius understood that he was a Zakif and Jacob, his Madreech, but beyond that, the entire experience and the ramifications for it were still beyond his ken. The one thing he could declare with certainty was that for the first time in his life, he was eager to get on with living, confident that he would no longer suffer as he once had. He owed that to Jacob, and in his mind, Gaius saw himself returning to Jerusalem with Jacob at his side. The thought pleased him greatly._

_Unfortunately for Gaius, his pleasure would be short-lived._

_Gaius went to the lower level of the inn in search of something to eat for a light morning meal. The normally reserved man smiled warmly at Jacob when he found the other man, bent on a similar mission. Together, the men went to the large room where meals for both family and guests were eaten. When they were both comfortably reclining on cushions around the low table, they began to eat and to talk. Gaius, innocent of the knowledge of the depth of terror Jerusalem held for Jacob, asked the one question that was first and foremost on his mind. The older man cleared his throat. __"__Jacob,__"__ he began, __"__I must return to Jerusalem. Will you return with me?__"_

_He was wholly unprepared for Jacob__'__s reaction as he watched the blood drain from his face and smelled fear coming from his being. Jacob lowered his head and his unbound hair fell over his features. __"__I will not go to Jerusalem with you.__"_

"_Why?__"__ Gaius asked, eager to understand the young man__'__s obvious fear, but Jacob only shook his head, indicating a reluctance to speak._

_Gaius tried again. __"__We are bound, Jacob. You and I. Do you deny that?__"_

_Jacob__'__s head snapped up. __"__No!__"__ he declared vehemently. __"__I would never deny that. But I cannot go to Jerusalem.__"_

_Gaius fought his confusion as the recently laid to rest fear of being alone to endure the torment he had known all his life, resurfaced. He was a Zakif, Jacob, his Madreech. He knew intuitively through the supernatural encounter he and Jacob had shared the previous night that he needed Jacob. They needed each other. Gaius felt a profound drive to protect this young man. _

_Jerusalem held some deep terror for his Madreech, yet he refused to speak of it with him. Gaius__'__ frustration began to seep out into the tone o f his voice, which grew flat. __"__I would give my life to protect yours, Jacob. I cannot remain here in Ira. Whatever it is that frightens you so, I will protect you.__"_

_Against his will, Jacob gave a short, bitter laugh. Then he trembled with fear as he saw the shadow fall upon Gaius__'__ face. __"__Forgive me,__"__ he said softy. His heart weighed down with grief and disappointment, he gave his final answer. __"__Do not ask me why. I cannot go to Jerusalem with you.__"_

_Gaius, who had never begged for anything in his life, not even under the worst beating, did not break his habit now. Instead, he rose silently from the cushions, gave Jacob one last cold glance and walked away, leaving the other man in his shame and misery._

_Jacob slowly made his way to his room, his heart heavy, and his mind in turmoil yet again. Once in the privacy of his small room, Jacob washed his face and hands with water from a small bowl with hands that still shook with remembered fear and frustration at being unable to tell Gaius why he could not go to Jerusalem with him. _

_He had never spoken of those terrible events as an act of survival. Now his inability to tell his Zakif what terrors Jerusalem held for him threatened to break the newly established bond that had been forged. He had a responsibility towards Gaius and now his fear of the past would hold him hostage and away from being at the Zakif__'__s side as was his duty, as well as his deepest desire._

_Frustrated and angry, Jacob swept the bowl of water from its stand, sending the water splashing and running down against the stone walls. _

_Just then Uncle Aaron suddenly appeared in the doorway and Jacob whirled around to greet him. Puzzled, Aaron looked at the mess and at his nephew__'__s unhappy face. __"__Jacob, what troubles you?__"_

_Deflated, Jacob sighed and replied, __"__Nothing, Uncle.__"_

"_Tell me no lie, boy.__"_

"_Leave it be!__"__ Jacob__'__s temper flared again, and Aaron, who had never heard his nephew raise his voice to him, was taken aback._

_Embarrassed, Jacob quickly offered an apology._

_Aaron studied his nephew__'__s tense features before suddenly changing the subject. __"__Do you remember that package you hid for me?__"_

"_Of course, Uncle.__"_

"_Good. The danger has passed, and it is safe for you to go and retrieve my property.__"_

"_Shall I go now?__"_

_Aaron chuckled. __"__No, give the children their lessons, then go later.__"_

_Jacob was not the only one whose emotions and mind were in turmoil. Gaius, too, felt confused and angry. He needed answers. Understanding why Jacob was so adamant about not going with him to Jerusalem was the first step in vanquishing the obstacle. It occurred to him that Jacob__'__s uncle would be loath to speak freely with him, but perhaps his Madreech__'__s mother, Naomi, would not. _

_To that end, he went in search of Naomi. Eventually, he found the unconventional woman outside in the sturdy shelter which housed Aaron__'__s horses. Naomi__'__s head was uncovered. Her brown hair, burnished with red, framed her beautiful face. She had made short the bottom of her dress by tucking part of it into the belt at her waist as she worked, exposing long, fine limbs. She looked far too young to be the mother of his Madreech. Fascinated, he watched her before making his presence known. _

_Unaware that Gaius had entered the structure, Naomi spoke softly and soothingly to the beautiful animal as she tended to an old wound that had ailed the horse for some time. Suddenly, as if she knew the younger man was there, Naomi turned and appraised Gaius with an appreciative eye. __"__You look much better than when I saw you last, Gaius Felix Justus.__"__ She smiled a winsome smile and Gaius, despite his troubled heart, could not help but respond to her charm._

"_I have the mother to thank for the son who made me well,__"__ he replied with a slight smile of his own. Naomi laughed, and the sound was musical and pleasant. Without being invited, Gaius knelt down to inspect the horse__'__s injury. _

"_What do you want to know about my son, Gaius?__"__ Naomi surprised Gaius with her abruptness. _

"_How do you know I seek information about Jacob?__"__ he countered as he got to his feet again._

"_You did not seek me out to help me tend this animal.__"_

_Gaius ceded the point. __"__I wish to gain an understanding of him.__"_

_This time, Naomi__'__s eyes flashed fire. __"__You mean, you wish to take him from me and return him to the place of his deepest torment.__"_

_Gaius hid his surprise at the woman__'__s insight behind an expressionless face. The air was thick with tension. __"__Tell me what happened. What secret is he hiding from me?__"_

"_It does not concern you, Gaius. It is enough that you wish Jacob to go with you to Jerusalem. The answer is no.__"__ Naomi gently placed her hand on Gaius__'__ arm. _

_Just then Aaron entered the stall and saw the two of them seemingly intimately close. The unreasonable fear and anger he felt whenever he thought about what Naomi had been forced to do to save her son__'__s life, and the more than a few subsequent incidents of improper sexual behavior with men, as well as her cavalier attitude about it, flooded through him. Gaius served King Herod, and in Aaron__'__s rising red haze of fury, at that moment, Gaius __**was**__ King Herod. _

"_Must you always play the whore, sister?__"__ Aaron raged. __"__Even now Jacob has gone up into the hills to unknowingly bring down the dagger and gems - spoils of your time spent in King Herod__'__s chambers.__"_

_The blood drained from Naomi__'__s face and like lightning, her arm rose up and she struck her brother across his face. Jacob__'__s mother was infuriated; both because her brother stood in judgment of her, but even more so, because he had endangered Jacob__'__s life by giving him the contraband items to carry on his person. __"__How dare you!__"__ Naomi seethed. __"__How dare you sit in judgment of me! The tokens of my so-called whoredom repulse you, and yet you jealously guard them, and then you send Jacob to carry them back and forth on his person. May the gods curse you, Aaron __–__ were you so sure that Herod__'__s soldiers would not have intercepted him the first time?__"__ Without waiting for a reply from the stunned Aaron, Naomi continued, __"__And what of him?__"__ she asked, pointing at Gaius. __"__He serves King Herod still and here you speak freely of that which belonged to Herod in his presence. Do you think he has no ears to hear, or is of low intelligence?__"_

_Gaius sought to diffuse the situation. It mattered not that this was a private family dispute of which he was ignorant of many of the salient facts. His Madreech__'__s mother was in distress. It was his duty to protect her in Jacob__'__s absence. _

_Gaius spoke carefully. __"__Naomi, Jacob and I are one through the bond of Zakif and Madreech. I would give my life for his __'__ere I betray him __–__ or you.__"__ He shrugged his shoulders. __"__You have a dagger and gems that were King Herod__'__s. He has many. However you acquired them, I do not believe it was because you lay with him.__"__ He paused for a moment and looked back and forth between the shame-faced Aaron, who stood with his head hanging down, and the defiant Naomi. _

_On a hunch, Gaius asked, __"__This has something to do with Jacob__'__s refusal to return to Jerusalem with me?__"_

_Aaron__'__s head snapped up. __"__Jacob will return to Jerusalem over my dead body.__"_

"_Be silent!__"__ Gaius retorted. He looked expectantly and patiently at Naomi. _

_After a moment of tension-filled silence, Naomi took a deep breath and made the choice to trust the man who represented her enemy, King Herod. Her voice was soft when she said, __"__I will tell you what you wish to know.__"_

_Unashamed, Naomi looked into their faces, __"__Without Jacob__'__s knowledge, I freely gave my body to Herod to spare Jacob__'__s life. That was a small price to pay to keep him from being burned alive with the others who dared to smash the Roman symbol of the golden eagle that Herod had erected over the entrance to the Temple of Jerusalem._

_Herod promised me that he would release my son unharmed, and in return, he would call me to his bed for seven nights.__"__ Her face then took on a haunted expression. __"__But that pig lied, and when he did, I acted without thinking. I __**needed**__ to take something from him, something valuable.__"_

"_Aside from some gems, my sister stole from Herod one half of an intricate weapon that, when put with the other half, form a dagger.__"__ Aaron added._

"_How did you know that that particular dagger was so valuable to him?__"__ Gaius asked Naomi without judgment._

"_Herod kept many females to service his voracious appetite,__"__ Naomi explained bluntly. __"__I learned about that particular treasure, and where Herod kept it, from two of them. _

"_Anyway, that last night __–__ the last time I went to him, he told me of his true intent. He said that he would first give Jacob something to always remember him by before he let him go. Herod told me he would have my son whipped like an animal, and he did. Jacob nearly died, but not from the pain and blood loss. He nearly died of a broken heart because Herod took great pleasure in telling Jacob what I had done to save his life.__"__ Naomi__'__s voice was shaking with barely controlled sorrow and anger. _

_Only then did Naomi lower her eyes to hide the tears that she could no longer contain. __"__He had the power of my son__'__s life or death in his hands. He had all of the power, and I had none. I do not regret relieving him of something he valued, and I would do it again.__"_

_Slowly, Aaron reached out to his hurting sister. He wrapped his arms around the slender woman and in a whisper meant for her ears, but was clearly heard by Gaius, he said, __"__I am sorry, my sister. Please forgive me.__"_

_Gaius__'__ heart was heavy with the newfound understanding of Jacob__'__s reaction to his request. His Madreech had been brutalized by the most powerful man in Judea, and he__'__d suffered deeply in body and mind. Of all the physical torments Gaius had suffered, he__'__d never had a whip flay open his back, yet still, he understood some measure of the pain Jacob had endured. But the hurt to the young man__'__s heart was something he could only imagine. Gaius supposed that the guilt and shame Jacob lived with over how his mother had saved his life must have seemed unbearable to the young man. Gaius__'__ own mother had abandoned him and his younger brother when he was but a child. Left bereft of his mother__'__s love and tenderness, Gaius would have given anything to have her back, safe and protected under the same roof. _

_Gaius made up his mind to find Jacob without delay and tell him that he understood why he feared accompanying him to Jerusalem, but he deeply desired Jacob to trust him enough to tell him the truth on his own. _

_He waited until Aaron and Naomi ceased embracing each other and then he asked where he could find Jacob. After Aaron explained how to get to where Jacob was, up in the hills, Gaius quickly departed on a mission to find his Madreech. _

**Anybody interested in more of this story?**


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes:**

**Many thanks for reading and commenting, HyperMint and Chiclete!**

**For Hyper who wrote: **

"Did you know that 'Sentinel' and 'Madreech', the word for Guide, is the same number of letters? 'Guide' and 'Zakif' are the same amount of letters as well. Intentional?"

**I was told that 'Zakif' and 'Madreech' are the literal Hebrew translations for those English words, so no, it's not intentional but it is interesting! : )**

So, Gaius and Jacob are not ancestors... I have another theory, but I think I'll keep it to myself for now. 

**I promise it's not a trick - the answer you seek is in the summary.**

**Present**

Jim leaned forward, peering intently out the car's windshield as the vehicle approached the nighttime roadblock. The detective's body language clearly communicated a state of tensely coiled anticipation as he drew closer to the disaster area and closer to initiating the physical actions necessary for finding Sandburg. Whereas to Simon and the driver, the roadblock ahead looked only like an area of bright light with no discernible shapes, the Sentinel saw everything clearly.

The traffic backup that had been in place had cleared out as troopers got drivers to turn their cars around and exit the highway. The wooden barricades stretched from one side of the highway to the other. Several State Patrol cars were strategically placed along the road. Despite the fact that it was cold, snowing, and search and rescue efforts were in limbo until the area had been declared sufficiently stable, there was still a healthy on-scene media presence there as reporters stubbornly waited in their RVs and vans so that they could be the first to report on any confirmed deaths and injuries.

There were two state emergency trailers also stationed nearby, which housed some of the geo-technicians as well as a few search and rescue personnel on stand-by. Bright emergency lights illuminated the roadblock and surrounding area. It looked like a scene from a Hollywood film nighttime shoot.

At last the patrol car cleared the checkpoint and proceeded to park alongside the state emergency trailer. Banks and Ellison exited the car and grabbed their gear from the trunk.

The reality of finally having arrived at a place so close to the rockslide area had an immediate effect upon Simon Banks. He had, of course, always been concerned about Sandburg, but truth be told, his main focus of concern had been keeping his friend and best detective together and in control. Now, looking around, Simon felt the beginnings of the same sense of urgency expressed by Jim. Sandburg was out there and he needed help now, not later. "Let's go," he barked at Jim, heading towards the emergency trailer.

The two men, followed by the state patrol officer who had driven them there, entered the trailer and were immediately greeted by Mark Harris, the senior search and rescue expert. Introductions were quickly made and then the men got down to business. "Officers, the rockslide is located approximately a quarter of a mile up ahead. You understand that you men have absolutely no business being here? The conditions are dangerous, and you have no idea what you're doing."

"And you have no idea if that's true. I was in the Army Special Forces and I've had to operate and survive in all kinds of dangerous environments," Jim replied with deceptively even control.

"And you're gonna find a way to go up there, no matter what, aren't you?"

"Look, everyone and his uncle has made it pretty darn clear that we're on our own here. So either help us, or get the hell out of our way," Simon growled impatiently and forcefully. They hadn't come all this way to play games with a search and rescue expert who was too afraid to do his job. At that moment, the captain didn't care that he was being unfair to the man. Banks towered over the shorter man, but the veteran search and rescue worker didn't blink an eye.

Much to the two Cascade men's surprise, Harris looked them both in their eyes. "Good. Because you need me, and I'm coming with you."

Jim's acute annoyance at the man faded. He nodded at Harris, and Simon merely looked relieved. Harris began to distribute some necessary equipment. To each man he gave a radio and showed them which channels to set it on so they could one: talk amongst themselves and two: contact the officers stationed at the roadblock. Next, the search and rescue leader passed a powerful hand-held flashlight to Simon to go along with the one Jim already had. Lastly, Harris shouldered his other gear, which included, among other things, bottled water, rope, a harness and first-aid kit.

Ready now, the three men set off into the cold night in search of the fourth. And the moon, like a spectral witness, gave forth her light along the abandoned, silent road.

_**Ira**_

_Gaius walked until he found himself outside of Ira__'__s boundaries. He now trod up the sandy, pebbled ground marked by the occasional pathway that had been worn by much foot traffic. These were the pathways where Jacob often walked when he wanted to be outside and alone. Gaius didn__'__t hesitate when he came to the place where he should leave the path and start climbing upwards through the rough, rocky hills to reach the place where Jacob was. By smell alone, the Zakif could have easily found the way to the pasture that the shepherd Benjamin took every day._

_Gaius crested a hill where he immediately took in the sight of a multitude of sheep grazing and a young man standing guard over them. A little way up, he saw Jacob, deep in thought, sitting on top of a flat rock that jutted out over a small cave. Next to Jacob was a rolled up bundle. _

_Gaius approached him, and when Jacob looked up and saw him drawing near, the young man__'__s face registered surprise at his unexpected appearance, and only the faintest trace of trepidation. Jacob smiled and called out, __"__Have you come to tend sheep, Gaius?__"_

_The corner of Gaius__'__ mouth rose slightly. __"__One does not send the wolf to guard the sheep, Jacob.__"_

_The young man laughed, and the sound of his Madreech__'__s laughter was light and pleasant to the Zakif__'__s ears. __"__Join me up here.__"__ Jacob patted the rock next to him, and Gaius obliged by walking around and up._

_For a while, they sat side by side without speaking, merely gazing out at the beauty of the land. Gaius, now that he had found Jacob, was at a loss as to where he should begin in his quest to get his Madreech to trust him with the truth of his fear. _

_Finally, he put away his anxiety and spoke. __"__Jacob, you know that I must return to Jerusalem.__"_

_Jacob__'__s posture stiffened. __"__I know that.__"_

"_You would forsake the path you believe your God has decreed for you to walk?__"_

_Jacob__'__s eyes flashed fire. __"__You would use my beliefs against me?__"__ he retorted angrily._

"_No,__"__ Gaius replied softly. __"__Never. I seek only understanding - and trust. Tell me why the very thought of Jerusalem fills you with such terror?__"_

_Jacob__'__s body began to tremble. __"__Gaius, please... I don__'__t wish to speak of it.__"_

"_Speak the truth to me, Jacob. Why are you afraid?__"_

_Jacob made no reply. He was mentally focused on the task of trying to push away the devastating, vivid memories he had tried so hard to distance himself from since the day he and Naomi arrived in Ira. He struggled vainly against the rising terror that always resulted from those harrowing memories. _

_Frustrated, Gaius asked again, __"__Tell me why you will not return to Jerusalem.__"_

_Shaking with remembered pain, fear and anger, Jacob stood up abruptly and undid the girdle that held his tunic in place. Then, with a savage fury, he all but tore the tunic off his body, and bared his scarred back to Gaius. __"__This!__"__ This is why!__"__ he screamed in anguish. _

_Gaius, who was used to seeing all manner of wounds and scars and had been amply warned as to what had happened, found himself unable to stifle the gasp that escaped his lips. His blood ran cold at the sight which sickened him, and the urge to kill those who had inflicted such lasting damage upon the back of his Madreech rose strong in him. _

_He knew full well what had happened to Jacob, but knowing that his Madreech had been tortured did not prepare him for the visual evidence of that fact. Horrified that the king he served had ordered this done, Gaius at last found his voice. __"__Herod did this to you?__"__ he gasped out unnecessarily._

"_He ordered his soldiers to do it while he watched with pleasure.__"__ The bitterness was a living thing that seeped through the words. The distressed young man covered his face with his hands and wept with the pain and shame of it all._

_Gaius, a man who, for most of his life could count on one hand the number of men he called __'__friend__'__, acted purely on instinct. His Madreech was suffering an unbearable wound to his spirit. It was his duty to alleviate that suffering, thus without thought, Gaius stood up and gathered Jacob close to his breast. The two stood together while Jacob wept until there were no more tears to drip from his soul. Only then did the Zakif impart to his Madreech, with every fiber of conviction in his words, this vow: __"__The man who raises his hand to you, be he king or beggar, will surely die at the end of my sword. I swear to you, in this life and in the next, we will never be parted.__"_

**Rockslide Area**

The pristine whiteness of the falling snow as it blanketed the area of devastation was perhaps the oddest mixture of beauty and horror Simon Banks had ever seen. Huge chunks of highway had simply disappeared under the onslaught of gigantic, hurling rocks. Here and there, pieces of guardrail still remained, but a large portion of it had been brutally ripped out or completely flattened. Every now and then, a few stray, small rocks tumbled down on to the road. The snow had covered any tire tracks that might have been on the road.

No one spoke. The shock of seeing the disaster area this close-up and personal left no room for conversation. Simon looked over at Jim, but Ellison did not acknowledge him. He was grim-faced, focused solely on picking his way carefully around the loose rocks and boulders while opening up his senses as wide as he could without inducing a zone-out.

The three men carefully picked their way past the first evidence of loss of human life: the still smoldering, burned-up, severed tanker. The air was thick with debris and the smell of exploded, burned oil. Simon nearly gagged and Ellison quickly dialed down his sense of smell.

Of all Harris' years working search and rescue, he'd never seen a rockslide of this magnitude. Looking around him, he secretly determined that they were looking at a recovery mission, not a rescue one. And what was with the detective anyway? The man looked liked some kind of bloodhound in pursuit. What could he possibly be seeing that the he and the captain couldn't as he stared at the ground so intently?

Suddenly, Ellison, who was slightly ahead of Harris and Banks, stopped near a place where remnants of the guard rail remained, though it had been flattened and pushed off the road and over the side. The two men watched as the detective squatted down close to the edge for a closer look. He looked up, and the men could see by the expression on his face that he believed he was on to something. Jim began rapidly signaling the two men to hurry over.

Jim stood up and began pointing at the broken, flattened guardrail. "Simon, a car went off the road here, and there's a chance that it was Blair's," he declared urgently, his eyes intense.

Simon and Harris looked where Jim was pointing. It was a scene that looked very much like everything else did further up and further down. "Hold on just a minute," the search and rescue veteran said. "There's nothing here that would suggest that."

Jim's jaw muscle twitched. "You're wrong. There are flecks of black paint on this rail, and it's clear they haven't been there long. My friend was driving a black SUV."

Harris inspected the broken railing again. "I'm sorry Ellison, I know you want to find your friend, but seeing things that aren't there isn't helping us find him - if he's here at all."

Jim ignored the man. He had pulled back his hearing as he inspected the railing, but now he dialed it up again. When he did, he heard a noise. There was something odd and completely out of place. He heard the noise again.

Banks put a strong hand on Harris' shoulder. "Believe me, if Jim says there's fresh black flecks of paint on this railing, then there is. I trust-"

"Oh my God!" Jim's face suddenly drained of all color, thoughts of Blair temporarily displaced by the identity of the sound. _There__'__s a baby down there! _Jim was shocked and horrified at the same time. There was no doubt that he'd heard a baby and by the sound of it, a very young baby, desperately crying. "Simon, Harris, there's a baby down there!"

"Sweet Jesus, you've got to get down there, Jim." There was no need for Simon to ask his detective if he were sure. Harris looked at Jim's determined face and wasted no time in questioning the detective further. He immediately sprang into action, ordering Simon to stay on the road. Then he and Jim put on their safety harnesses in record speed, and after securing the ropes, began to make their way through the thick canopy of brush and vegetation, down the steep ravine.

Jim led the way, the baby's cries leading him on even while the wails were growing weaker and weaker. Now there was clear evidence to both men that a car had been hurled off the mountain. Shattered pieces of what once had been a black vehicle left a broken trail. The Sentinel smelled something too - blood, but he couldn't tell whose.

Harris cautioned Jim to slow down, but Ellison, if anything, picked up speed. He was incapable of slowing down. The new sound pounding in his ears was blocking out everything else. It was not the sound of the baby crying that made him near frantic to reach it. It was the sound of a weakly beating heart. Jim would know that heartbeat anywhere. It was Blair! His Guide's heart was faltering.

Jim tore down the mountain, through the thick brush, in the grip of a deep fear that he would be too late. As he ran down the steep slope, he called on all of his years of physical training to keep on his feet as he traversed the uneven, rough terrain. Harris followed closely behind, albeit with more care than Jim. Still moving swiftly, Ellison took his radio out and practically yelled for the anxiously waiting Simon to summon a Medivac chopper. A minute later, Jim came upon the crumpled body of Blair Sandburg lying half on his side, half on his stomach in the snow.

He ran to Blair's side and with a gentleness that belied his frantic state, turned the young man over on his back. "Stay with me, Blair, stay with me," the worried Sentinel muttered when he saw the unconscious, bloodless face. Sandburg, half frozen and suffering from severe hypothermia, looked dead. Quickly, Jim loosened the anthropologist's tattered coat, and with steady hands, reached in and gently removed the weakly crying, tiny human being who was wrapped tightly in a torn, bloodstained coat.

Neither man had time to spare for wondering how and why Sandburg came to have a baby in his care. Ellison commenced assessing his injured Guide while Harris began pulling out his hypothermia treatment kit. Both men noted the heavily soaked, blood stained rag wrapped around Blair's lower leg. Knowing better than to disturb it, they worked around it.

Harris pulled his radio and spoke briefly to Simon before signing off. "Ellison, your captain says a Medivac chopper will be here in the next ten minutes."

"My friend doesn't have ten minutes!" Jim yelled as he saw Blair's blue-tinged lips. "He's gone into respiratory arrest!" Moving quickly, Harris immediately checked his patient's airway and began mouth-to-mouth resuscitation efforts while Jim watched the scene, holding the baby and transfixed by the sound of the man's breath being forced into Blair's body. He knew he was on the verge of a zone-out, but felt helpless to halt it.

It was only the sound of the Medivac chopper, still so faint that only Jim's ears could discern it, that stopped the Sentinel's descent into a major zone-out. Help was coming, if only Blair's faltering heartbeat could hold out just a little bit longer. It had to. This was the man who had walked into his life and saved his sanity while simultaneously handing his life back to him. This was his friend, his brother, who gave the best of himself because he couldn't do it any other way. As for the baby - the child he held close to his skin was living proof of that. Jim had no details, but he knew Sandburg had given everything he had to save the life of this mysterious child. _It would not be in vain either_, Ellison vowed. For now though, all the Sentinel could do was wait for the damn chopper and count the number of breaths Harris breathed into his Guide.

It seemed like an eternity, but in reality, only a few minutes passed before the medical chopper, a sophisticated Aerospatiale twin turbine helicopter, arrived. Bright lights flooded the area and Jim was forced to hastily dial down his sense of sight to avoid a painful spike. The chopper hovered steadily over as low an altitude as was safe. The two paramedics, who had clipped themselves to the cable, which would lower them to the ground, as well as the medical equipment that had been packed into a Stokes patient basket, were expertly lowered to the ground.

It was excruciating for Jim to stand there and simply watch as the paramedics, working in synch like a choreographed ballet, quickly intubated Blair, forcing oxygen into his lungs via a state-of-the-art portable resuscitation device. He stared helplessly as the paramedics continued their assessment of Blair, radioing up to the flight nurse, Sandburg's condition and vitals. He could do nothing more to help his best friend so instead, Ellison gently rocked the baby he held in his protective arms as Mark Harris began assessing and readying the infant for transportation.

One paramedic, whose uniform nametag read, "Hernandez" started an intravenous drip solution of warm saline in Blair's arm. The other medic placed a collar around Blair's neck and then together, the two men carefully placed the unconscious Sandburg onto a backboard before lifting him into the basket. Blair, who was wrapped in thick bright red blankets, was now ready to be hoisted into the chopper. Then it was the baby's turn. Jim found himself strangely reluctant to hand over the child. Blair had tried to save the child, had possibly even given his life in the effort. Jim was loathe to let the baby go, but nevertheless, he did. In short order, the paramedics had the baby safely ensconced in the same carrier next to Blair.

If he was having a hard time letting the infant go, he was having even a harder time watching as the medics re-attached their safety harnesses to the basket and radioed up to the pilot that they were ready. It went against all of Jim's instincts to let his Guide go into the care of another's hands, but he knew he would never be allowed to board the Medivac chopper and ride to the hospital with Blair and the child. Besides, Simon was waiting for him many yards up on the broken road. All he could do before the chopper whisked Blair away was to reach over and touch the an ice-cold cheek gently with his own bare hand, skin to skin, like a benediction. "You keep fighting, Chief. I'll see you soon."

The chopper finally lifted off, but Jim wasted no time by gazing helplessly after it. His drive to get to the hospital as quickly as possible led him to turn and assist Harris in repacking the items he'd taken out of his kit. Then the two men, working against the blowing snow and wind, began to climb out of the deep ravine and back up to the side of the road where Simon awaited.

The chopper had long since moved out of range, but had it not, even with his enhanced hearing, it was a mercy that Jim would not have been able to hear the whine of the defibrillator as Blair Sandburg went into full cardiac arrest. The Sentinel was spared the vision of his Guide's body arching as the single bolt of hot electricity raced through his frozen tissues, and he was blissfully unaware when the display on the cardiac monitor never changed from its flat, single line.

_**Ira**_

_A calmness had settled over Jacob as, at last, he let go of the loss, the shame and the poisonous fear he__'__d spent so much of his internal fortitude trying to forget. Through his trust and through his tears, he__'__d given over the lion__'__s share of his pain to Gaius. The Zakif had absorbed it, lightening the load from his Madreech__'__s shoulders with his quiet strength. For the first time, when Jacob thought about returning to Jerusalem at Gaius__'__ side, his insides did not roil with dread. _

"_Thank you, Gaius.__"__ The young man having now grown suddenly shy, studied the mysteries of his dusty sandals. Seeing this, Gaius reached into the neck of his tunic and slowly removed the amulet his father had given him in the days of his youth. He placed it gently around Jacob__'__s neck. He answered the questioning look in the other man__'__s eyes. _

"_When I was a boy, my father gave this to me. It was one of the few things he ever gave me that did not come with his constant censure. I have never willingly taken it off before now. __"_

"_Hence forth, nor will I,__"__ Jacob replied, moved more than he could express by Gaius__'__ gift. The young man was ready to go back to Ira. __"__I must return to my uncle now.__"_

_The two men left the pasture and began their descent out of the hills. Along the way, Jacob sighed. __"__It won__'__t be easy telling my family that I am going back to Jerusalem with you. They will most likely hate you for such news.__"_

"_They all ready do,__"__ Gaius replied flatly. As they walked, Gaius shared with him all that had occurred between Naomi, Aaron and himself that morning. For his part, Jacob remained silent, preferring to quietly ponder all that Gaius had told him. He was not bothered that Gaius knew what his mother had sacrificed for him, for he knew that Gaius neither judged her, nor was shocked by the contents of the bundle. On the other hand, he himself had been hard pressed to refrain from dashing to the ground, like a snake found suddenly in the hand, the bundle his uncle had given him for safekeeping when Gaius had revealed what it contained. Instead, he merely quickened his step, the sooner to rid himself of Herod__'__s treasures. _

_Jacob was hot and thirsty. Walking downward out of the hills along the rough rocks was almost as tough __as__ going up. He knew Gaius must be feeling the heat too and neither man had bothered to carry with him a water skin. Finally, they reached the dusty road sparsely lined with trees and turned toward Ira. They passed no others on the road and the quiet relaxed the two men so that they walked along talking and exchanging easy conversation. Jacob asked all manner of questions about Gaius__'__ senses and the Zakif did his best to answer them. _

_Suddenly, Gaius stopped in the road and turned around, staring off in the distance. His blood ran cold and he reached in vain for his nonexistent sword, for he had left it behind in his haste to find Jacob. From afar, the Zakif both saw and heard with enhanced senses, as if no more than a stone__'__s throw away, three grim-faced Centurions, coming towards them on the same road, on galloping horses, red robes billowing behind them. Their mounts were wild-eyed, their nostrils were flaring from days of hard riding. Of the three men, two did not concern Gaius for he knew them. The third man raised the hackles on the back of his neck. It was Drufus!_

_Jacob turned around, looking up at Gaius with deep concern. The friend who had walked beside him with a contented casualness and ready smile was gone. In his place stood a feral man, blue eyes wide with recognized danger and stress. _

_Jacob__'__s heart beat faster as he looked in the direction Gaius was staring. He could see nothing but dust and a misshapen blur in the distance. __"__Gaius, what__'__s wrong? What do you see?__"__ Jacob__'__s anxious voice reached Gaius. _

_Gaius whirled around and spoke urgently and forcibly. __"__Quickly, Jacob, go back to Ira. It is Drufus coming with two other soldiers known to me.__"_

_Jacob__'__s face blanched, but he replied, __"__No. He is not after me, he__'__s after you!__"_

_Gaius was impatient with worry. He gripped Jacob by his shoulders. __"__Jacob, there is not much time. Leave now while you can.__"_

_Their gazes locked in tense conflict. Faster than the blink of an eye, both men were struck by the same singular horrific thought, but it was Jacob who cried out in dismay: __"__What about Joseph, Maryam and the baby? What if Drufus knows they fled Bethlehem before he arrived? What if he__'__s hunting them?__"__ Jacob fought to stay calm and speak evenly. __"__If he finds them, he will kill Yeshua.__"__ The young man took a deep breath and laid his hand on top of Gaius__'__ arm. __"__Gaius, please, I could never run as swiftly as you. Run ahead and warn them while I delay Drufus.__"_

_Gaius looked again at the men approaching, their identities still clearly discernable only to him. Time was of the essence, and he knew he must make an immediate choice, either to leave now and hope that his Madreech could safely delay Drufus, or stay with Jacob and risk having Drufus detect the presence of Joseph and Maryam__'__s baby boy in Ira. For his own life, he had little concern. Even unarmed, he did not fear fighting Drufus, but he could not help his gut from clenching in fear at the thought of Jacob encountering the bloodthirsty captain alone._

_The Zakif made his decision. __"__I will circle back around after I have sent Joseph, Maryam, and the baby on their way. Be careful, Jacob, Drufus__'__ love of cruelty runs as deep as Herod__'__s, and those that ride with Drufus are good men, but they are weak.__"_

"_I will, Gaius,__"__ Jacob solemnly promised. He stood staring after Gaius when the big man turned and started running back to Ira with swift strong strides. Then, tucking the bundle into the folds of his robe, Jacob turned to face the approaching group of Centurions. _

**Shaw Emergency & Trauma Center**

"Medivac chopper just landed!" The call that rang out was one that unfailingly infused Dr. Janet Southerland with renewed energy despite the fact that the forty-year-old Shaw Trauma Center physician had been on duty for over thirteen hours. As one of the emergency room physicians on duty, she'd been notified that two patients, a twenty-seven-year-old man suffering from severe hypothermia, deep laceration to his right calf, and possible broken leg, and a newborn baby suffering from a mild case of hypothermia, were being flown in.

"Get ready, people." Dr. Southerland gave a head's up as she looked around, eyeing her competent medical staff. Moments later, the double doors burst open, and a gurney surrounded by a team of medical personnel was quickly wheeled in. One of the flight paramedics was administering chest compressions as he rode the gurney in the straddle position atop the young man's body. The flight nurse, who was carrying the newborn in her arms, followed behind.

The staff immediately sprang into action. The infant was whisked off to the neo-natal unit, while other medical personal began cutting the frozen, dirty, torn clothes off the young man's body and inserting a Foley catheter. The high-tech portable ventilator continued to force air into Blair's unresponsive lungs, and a device to administer mechanical chest compressions relieved the paramedic from his manual efforts. Dr. Southerland began barking out orders in response to the information the flight paramedics were rapidly imparting.

Her patient now had a name. Blair Sandburg. The young man's situation was critical. His temperature had dropped to below 82°F. The extremely low core body temperature had already resulted in cardiac arrest and respiratory failure. It was possible that both could be restored, but the risk of permanent damage was very high. There was no time to contemplate how this young man had come to be in this condition. No time to concern herself with whether or not his family knew where he was, or even if he had a family. Blair's body needed to be warmed as quickly as was safely possible.

Acting decisively, Dr. Southerland ordered the therapy used for the most severe cases of hypothermia such as the one the young man presented. Hemodialysis could restore normal body temperatures quickly. The procedure would remove her patient's blood, extra fluids, chemicals and wastes from his body. Then his blood would be warmed rapidly and subsequently returned.

A nurse began unwrapping the stiff, frozen, blood-saturated rag from Blair's leg. "Let's get this wound cleaned and dressed," Dr. Southerland directed the nurse. "Call down to Radiology and have them bring down a portable x-ray machine," she added. "Danny, draw and crossmatch blood, please. Folk, let's hustle!" Southerland commanded. The trauma care physician thought there was a good chance that Sandburg's leg would require surgery. If so, it would have to wait until the more immediate crisis was over, one way or another.

Ever the optimist, even Dr. Southerland wasn't taking any bets on the odds of her patient's survival in a hypothermia case this severe. All she knew was that she was going to fight for him with everything she had. _He__'__s not dead until he__'__s warmed and dead. _With that thought in mind, Southerland refocused her attention, blocking out everything else.

From his vantage point in the front seat, Simon looked worriedly in the rear view mirror back at Jim who was sitting still and stone-faced in the backseat. It seemed to the captain that he had been standing by the side of the broken road forever in the cold, waiting for Ellison and Harris to climb back up, but in truth, it took them only twenty-five minutes using the equipment they had brought with them to aid their climb out of the steep, treacherous ravine.

Simon knew he would be hard pressed to forget the elation he had felt when Jim told him that not only had he found the baby in relatively good shape, he'd also found Blair. However, when Jim finally climbed up onto the road, he had looked pale-faced and decidedly grim. His report on Sandburg's and the baby's condition had been delivered in short, clipped tones and his eyes looked out into the distance, seeing nothing.

Simon wanted to ask Mark Harris his opinion on Sandburg's chances, but he didn't dare in front of Jim. It was clear that his detective was hanging onto his composure by sheer force of will, and he knew Jim well enough to know that among the many things going through his mind, guilt would surely be counted among them. Somehow, no matter how improbable it was, Jim would mostly likely think that he hadn't recommended a safe enough route, or a more reliable vehicle for the younger man. The possibilities were endless.

The three men had quickly walked back out to the barricade and into the emergency trailer. The two men from Cascade were anxious to get to the hospital, and Mark Harris was determined to gather a group of his colleagues for a return trip down the ravine to find Sandburg's car and possibly the mother of the rescued baby.

Directions in hand, Jim and Simon got ready to leave. Other than to thank Harris for his help and for the generous loan of his personal vehicle, Jim had not said another word.

Forty-five minutes later, Simon pulled into the parking lot closest to the emergency room entrance. Jim practically leaped out of the car and Simon, whose legs were just as long as Jim's, had to work to match Jim's step, stride for stride.

Jim headed straight towards the nearest counter, which was staffed by two female hospital personnel. The young women at the desk were busy with phone calls and files of paperwork, which were constantly being dropped off and picked up by other staff members. Jim wasted no time. "A Blair Sandburg was airlifted here not long ago. Can you tell me where he is?"

"Just a minute, sir, and I'll check." Just then the phone behind the counter rang, and the young woman answered it and began speaking in a pleasant voice, patiently answering the questions from the person on the other end of the line. Jim stood in front of the counter, his clenching jaw telegraphing his impatience. Simon, who was weary to the core, was standing next to Jim with his eyes closed, also anxiously awaiting the news.

A male nurse who was coming off duty walked down the hall towards the counter with some paperwork in his hand. With a weary grin, the nurse handed the papers to Carol, the other young woman behind the counter.

"Have a Merry Christmas, Bobby."

"You too, Carol. Good night."

"Say, Bobby." Carol gestured for the nurse to come closer. Then she lowered her voice to a whisper, unaware that the handsome, formidable man with the intense blue eyes could hear her perfectly well. "You were working trauma tonight, right? Do you know anything about a Blair Sandburg who was recently airlifted in?

"Sure, he's in Trauma Room One. He's Dr. Southerland's patient. Poor guy, he's in pretty bad shape. Just between me, you and the lamppost, I don't think he's gonna make it."

"I'd hate to be the one to have to tell himthat." Carol lifted her eyes above the counter in a subtle gesture to indicate the man who was glowering at her co-worker. To her surprise, the big man was nowhere around. Carol turned her attention towards the tall black man standing on the other side of the counter with his eyes closed. "Sir," she called.

Simon's eyes snapped open. "Sir, your friend is in Trauma Room One."

Banks looked around, confused. "Where's the man I was with?"

Carol shrugged. "I don't know, sir."

_Uh oh, _Simon thought. He knew exactly where'd he find Jim. The Major Crimes captain followed the posted signs to Trauma Room One and when he stood outside the double doors, he heard raised voices. "Sir, you can't be in here," one voice declared forcefully. Another said, "You need to wait outside." 

Simon took a deep breath, pushed open the doors and entered the treatment room. Nothing could have prepared him for the sight before him, which shocked even his toughened sensibilities. Banks expected Sandburg to look pale. He expected him to be unconscious. He also knew from Jim's report that the young man was not breathing on his own; however, the young police observer not only looked dead, he looked more like something out of a science fiction movie than a human being. A myriad of tubes, wires and intravenous lines snaked out from many points beneath the warming blankets under which Blair lay naked. The ventilator tube protruding from Sandburg's mouth was firmly affixed to his face with tape. Its hiss accompanied the forced breaths keeping Sandburg alive. There was a strange looking belt-like contraption strapped strategically around the young man's chest. The belt's automatic compressions were forcing Blair's blood to circulate through his body since his failed heart, which had ceased to beat, could not do it. Another machine stood close by, and from the looks of it, it was removing Sandburg's blood, circulating it through a device, and then returning it to the unconscious man. Blair's wounded leg was splinted and lay exposed outside of the blanket.

As pitiful as Blair Sandburg looked, it was the appearance of Simon's best detective and friend that moved him even more. Ellison was just standing by Blair's head, looking down at him with a look of utter devastation on his face. He wasn't touching Sandburg, nor was he whispering words of entreaty or comfort to the still form. He could do neither one in the disturbing absence of the sound of his Guide's familiar, soothing heartbeat.

Simon had never before seen Jim cry. Jim hadn't cried when his mentor and friend, Jack Pendergrast, disappeared. Not when his friend and colleague, Danny Choi, had been laid to rest in the cold earth either. Now the reticent man stood at the side of Blair Sandburg and unashamed, the tears flowed down his face as the staff tried in vain to get him to leave.

Wishing to avoid a confrontation with hospital security, Simon, with all his strength and authority, moved to Jim's side. Taking the man by the arm, he gently led him outside and to the waiting room full of its out-dated magazines and uncomfortable hard, plastic chairs. Side by side, the two men began their own solitary vigil, waiting in silence. Only the slow hands of the wall clock, moving with great reluctance, kept them company.

_**Ira**_

_Gaius, who was in superb physical condition, ran faster than he__'__d ever had in his life. He made it back to Ira and to Aaron__'__s inn in record time on legs made fleet from the strongest imperative to protect the innocent. The Zakif burst through the door to the inn, calling loudly for Aaron in an urgent, tense voice which demanded immediate attention. The portly innkeeper emerged suddenly from his chambers with a look on his face, which bespoke of his consternation at having been so rudely summoned. Aaron saw the sweat-covered Gaius, whose chest was heaving from his hard run. He bellowed out, __"__Gaius, what is it? What trouble have you brought to my door now?__"__ His voice was angry and fear-tinged. _

_Gaius wasted no time in trying to soothe the agitated man. __"__Where are Maryam and her baby?__"__ he demanded._

_Taken aback by Gaius__'__ tone and feral look, Aaron sputtered, __"__Where are...? Wha - What? How should I know? My guests do not seek permission from me to either come or go.__"_

"_Listen to me,__"__ Gaius all but yelled as he grabbed Aaron by his arm. __"__Joseph__'__s family is in danger from Drufus, the captain who led us into Bethlehem on an assassination mission. He is coming here now and he is near.__"_

_Aaron hesitated for a moment longer, unsure and mistrustful of the stranger who was still the servant of a tyrant king. __"__Where is Jacob? What have you done with him?__"__ Aaron demanded._

"_He is safe __–__ for now,__"__ Gaius hissed, __"__but if you value the life of another innocent baby boy, you will have Maryam and the child brought to me __**now**__!__"_

_Aaron jumped in the face of the other man__'__s intensity. __"__Eli!__"__ Aaron snapped out, summoning the passing servant from the open door. The servant entered the room quickly. __"__Go to the guest quarters and seek out Maryam, wife of Joseph, the carpenter. When you find her, tell her that her child__'__s life is in danger. Bring her and her child here quickly. Do not delay in this!__"_

_Eli hurried off to do his master__'__s bidding; however, he did not find the young mother in the guest quarters. Instead, he found Maryam in the area where the women gathered to tend the ovens and prepare food. She sat amongst the other women, her hands busy kneading bread dough, while her infant son slept peacefully in a blanket-lined wicker basket._

_The servant hurried over and spoke rapidly in the girl__'__s ear and immediately, Maryam__'__s expressive face paled with fear. She grabbed her son from the basket, holding him protectively close as she hurried out after Eli, leaving the stunned group of women behind. _

_Gaius, who was now armed with both dagger and sword, paced up and down as he waited impatiently in the stable for Maryam and her son. He had quickly prepared the strongest, swiftest-looking mount he could find, for he had dire need of it if he were to reunite Maryam and the baby with Joseph in time to escape encountering Herod__'__s murderous captain. The Zakif was unaware that this was to be Joseph__'__s last day of working for the local Arab carpenter. The father had earned and saved enough money to take his little family the rest of the way to Egypt and planned to depart the next day._

_Moments later, the frightened mother arrived with her sleeping infant son, with Aaron following closely behind. Gaius quickly prepared a second horse for his return to Jacob. He quickly mounted the horse. Then he and Aaron wasted no time in helping mother and child onto the horse in a place in front of Gaius. _

_Aaron held the reins while he looked up at the Zakif, his expression dark and troubled. __"__Take care of them, Gaius.__"__ His voice hitched slightly as he added a grim warning. __"__If my nephew comes to harm because of you, there will be no corner of hell where you can hide.__"_

"_If any harm should befall Jacob, I will not hide from your wrath,__"__ Gaius replied gravely. _

_Then Aaron let go of the horse__'__s reins and Gaius, leading the other horse, and with Maryam and the baby in his protective arms, galloped away, leaving a cloud of dust in their wake. _

**Shaw Emergency & Trauma Center**

"You're the man waiting for news on Blair Sandburg." It was a statement, not a question. She could hardly forget the sight of the big man, standing by her patient's bedside, tears streaming down his face, oblivious to the staff members trying to extricate him from the trauma room.

Jim snapped out of his mind-numbing worry and fatigue to find himself looking into a weary but kind-looking face of a female trauma center physician. He and Simon started to rise to their feet, but the doctor gestured for them to remain seated while she brought over a chair and sat down facing them.

"I'm Janet Southerland, Mr. Sandburg was assigned to me, and I've been in charge of his case since he arrived. In case you are wondering, the baby girl who was admitted with him is being treated in the neo-natal unit."

"I'm Detective Jim Ellison and this is my boss, Captain Simon Banks from the Cascade City police department. How's Blair?" Jim asked, the stress of waiting telling heavily in his voice and posture.

"Excuse me, Detective Ellison, but does Mr. Sandburg have any family members I should be speaking to regarding his condition?"

"He has a mother, but I don't know where she is or how to get in touch with her." Jim replied tersely.

"Blair is Jim's roommate and part-time partner at the police station, " Simon offered.

"And I have his Advanced Directive," Ellison added, anxious for news.

_Close enough_. Janet hated delivering bad news to friends and loved ones of a patient, but she knew she was much better at it than some of her colleagues. "Mr. Sandburg's condition is critical," she started out gently, but frankly. "At the moment he's in a coma as a result of complications he suffered from a case of severe hypothermia."

Simon swore in dismay while Jim's hard expression never changed.

"Additionally, he's dealing with a complete fracture of his fibula which, if he were going to break his leg, this was the better type."

Simon looked confused. "I'm afraid you lost me. How was that better for him?"

"The two broken edges of the bone would have wedged together allowing him to walk," Jim murmured.

Dr. Southerland looked surprised. Jim read her unasked question. "I was a medic once," he reluctantly volunteered.

"I see," she responded with compassion. The doctor was just as much an intuitive person as an analytical one, so she sensed that there was something different about this man whose face was as expressive as granite rock. Underneath the unmovable exterior was a formidable level of intensity emanating from him on behalf of his friend, and she wondered if there was something more to the nature of the relationship than what she had been told.

"Mr. Sandburg also suffered considerable blood loss from a deep laceration in his right calf," she continued. "There are numerous contusions all over his body, and he has a mild case of frostbite on the fingers of his left hand and on the tip of his nose. We've been warming Mr. Sandburg up as quickly as possible, but his core temperature is still far below normal. He's on life support, but once his temperature rises, I hope that his heart will reestablish normal sinus rhythm and that he'll resume breathing on his own. For now, we have machines doing both for him."

Jim ran a hand through his short hair. This was an incomprehensible nightmare. His best friend had gone to visit his mother as he had every right to do. He'd helped him pick the route, helped him get a safe vehicle. He and Sandburg were supposed to have entertained Simon at the loft on Christmas Eve. Now it was Christmas Day and his Guide was in a coma, fighting for his life. This wasn't right. And how long had Blair lay freezing to death in the snow, trying to keep a helpless newborn alive? Had he known that he was dying? Had he been afraid and calling out to him?

His mind and his heart hurt from the thoughts chasing each other in his mind. Jim closed his eyes briefly and then opened them. _This isn__'__t going to help Sandburg. _The Sentinel forced his thoughts away from morose introspection, "When can we see him?" he abruptly asked.

"I'm willing to let both of you into the trauma room for about five minutes while we wait for his core body temperature to return to normal."

"And after that, where will he be?" Simon asked, not sure that he wanted to hear the answer.

Dr. Southerland didn't pull any punches as she stood up and prepared to reenter the trauma room. "After that, he'll either be moved to ICU or to the morgue."

_**Ira**_

_Gaius watched with a great deal of satisfaction as the young family wove their way through the thick market crowd and disappeared towards the opposite end of Ira. He__'__d half expected Joseph to show fear or to panic at the news and sudden appearance of his wife and child with a man from Herod__'__s army. But the carpenter__'__s reaction had been altogether different, as if he had known already what was to happen. His eyes had passed a silent, calming message to his wife before turning to quietly thank him. Then Joseph mounted the horse behind his wife and the trio rode away. Joseph, Maryam and their son, Yeshua, were seen no more in Ira. _

_As anxious as Gaius was to circle back to ensure that Jacob had come to no harm by his foolhardy plan to delay Drufus, he felt a deep affirmation in his soul that he had done the right thing in first protecting the life of the most helpless and innocent of his tribe. It made no difference to him that he had not even attempted to take the lives of any infant boys in the mission to Bethlehem, but nonetheless, the mere fact that he had been there and ordered to do so weighed heavily on him and was like a stain upon his honor. _

_Standing behind a tree, keeping lookout, Jacob__'__s mouth went dry and his stomach fluttered with nervous energy bordering on all out terror as the three figures on horseback approached. What he was about to do could cost him a great deal, possibly his very life, but his mind could conceive of only one sure way to guarantee that the attentions of Herod__'__s soldiers would be significantly diverted from Ira and unto him instead. He ruthlessly squashed the rising panic. _

_Closer and closer they came until Jacob could make out the features of each man. The man in the lead was big and powerful looking. He wore his cruel nature on his face like a badge declaring his identity. Jacob knew without Gaius__'__ saying so that he could be no other than the vicious captain, Drufus. Jacob__'__s eyes narrowed and he momentarily forgot his nervousness. This was the man who had tormented his Zakif. For that, the man deserved his contempt, not his fear. _

_Jacob looked at the two soldiers flanking Drufus. One soldier carried high the standard of King Herod__'__s house. His hard face gave no indication of the weariness felt from the punishing pace Drufus had set trying to reach Ira as quickly as possible. The other soldier riding along the other side of Drufus reminded Jacob of Martinus, for he too was a big man with brown shaggy hair and a battle-scarred, but not cruel, face. His horse was laden with Drufus__'__ shield and additional weapons. _

_Once more, Jacob anxiously touched the bundle containing Herod__'__s treasures, which he had carefully hidden within the folds of his garments. Gaius was depending on him to buy time so that he could get to Joseph__'__s family in time to help them leave Ira undetected. He would do it, no matter the cost. Having gathered his courage, he took a deep breath, came out from behind the tree, thus announcing his presence._

_The young man stood in the middle of the road and held up his hand. __"__Hail emissaries of the mighty King Herod,__"__ he called out with an enthusiasm that was as false as the lie he was about to weave. __"__You can be none other than the men King Herod__'__s messenger informed me were coming to collect his property. Your timing is perfect, I__'__ve not been waiting long.__"_

_Drufus pulled his horse up abruptly and stared incredulously at the little man standing in the road barring his passage. Pulling his sword and pointing it at Jacob__'__s neck, he moved his enormous horse closer. His face affixed itself into a contemptuous sneer as he looked Jacob up and down. __"__Dog, your brains must have been addled by too much time in the sun. Or were you born that way? What are you babbling about? Make it good, or I__'__ll cut your tongue out.__"_

_Turning wide blue eyes on the man, Jacob affected an innocent, confused air. __"__You are not the ones sent by King Herod to collect his property?__"__ Jacob looked from one to the other. __"__After a traveler peddled the items to my uncle, who is a trader, he realized these items belonged to your great King and that they were most likely stolen. My uncle sent word to Jerusalem that the items were here, and we, in turn, received a message that the king was dispatching someone to collect the items. They were to arrive today so my uncle bade me go out onto the road and await you.__"_

_Drufus stared with growing curiosity at the young man. He seemed rational enough. Had his king indeed sent someone to retrieve some stolen property? How would it play out in his favor if he were to be the one to intercept the items and return them himself? Then there was this unusual little man. Why did he seem so familiar? Drufus, who never forgot a face, filed the thought away for later contemplation. __"__Hand over these items you claim to have at once,__"__ he demanded imperiously._

_Slowly, with a prayer under his breath that Joseph__'__s family had gotten away, Jacob withdrew the bundle from the folds of his clothes and presented it to the imposing man sitting high upon a great horse. _

_Drufus casually sheathed his sword, leaned over and accepted the bundle. He carefully unwound the rags until the hidden contents were revealed. Herod__'__s captain studied the half piece of the specially designed dagger with its serpentine handle. Then he examined the handful of varied_ _precious gems and stones, turning them over and holding up select ones. One gem in particular caught his eye. It was a blue light-colored sapphire of substantial size. He was drawn to the gem as he held it up to the light. It seemed to shimmer and give the appearance of water on a lake. Drufus stiffened suddenly as something on the edge of a memory teased him. _

_The stone looked like water streaming from eyes__…__ like eyes of blue, filled with tears of pain and humiliation. Slowly, Drufus turned his gaze towards Jacob, and the full weight of the cruel, knowing leer upon the merciless visage made Jacob__'__s heart quail with sudden dread and fear. Drufus__'__ memory had returned. He remembered that morning. It was before the public trail of ten rebellious Jews who had dared to challenge King Herod__'__s claims upon the Temple. Pre-trial notwithstanding, it was understood that there were to be ten men put to death by fire. Instead, one rebel had been set aside for a different fate. And Drufus had been there when that tenth man, a comely-looking youth with long, curly flowing hair and sapphire eyes, had been dragged naked into Herod__'__s torture chamber, tied between two posts and whipped until the scent of blood and ripped flesh rose like a sweet incense to Drufus__'__ nostrils. His nostrils flared from the phantom smell. This was that same man!_

_The captain was nearly overcome with sadistic glee at the discovery of this most unexpected boon. This toy which the gods had clearly given him for his pleasure. __"__Seize him!__"__ Drufus commanded his men. _

_In shock, Jacob stood still as the men dismounted, walked over and grabbed him firmly by his arms. Then Drufus too dismounted, taking his time to circle around Jacob like a predator stalking its prey. Jacob trembled under the silent inspection as the captain__'__s steps came full circle. Suddenly, Drufus violently backhanded Jacob across his face, splitting his lip and wrenching his neck. _

"_Do you know the penalty for stealing, boy?__"__ Drufus mocked._

"_I am no thief. I did not steal these things,__"__ Jacob replied in a deceptively calm voice. Gaius would come __–__ and soon. All he need do was hold them off by stalling. In his heart, Jacob was desperately afraid. This man, like the king he served, was exceedingly cruel. Jacob understood what drove the king to his acts of cruelty, for Herod exercised brutality for the purpose of maintaining his rule. Not so with Drufus. Jacob intuitively recognized that the captain was a man who indulged in cruelty for the pleasure it brought to him._

"_You are a traitor as well as a thief!__"__ Drufus sneered. __"__Your rabbi and your friends met King Herod__'__s justice and died screaming in the fire, but you,__"__ he paused, __"__you were spared.__"_

_The captain circled around his helpless captive again. __"__I saw you that day when you received your punishment. It was exquisite.__"__ Drufus appeared to revel in the memory as he licked his lips. Jacob closed his eyes and shuddered. _

"_The penalty for thievery is the loss of your hand,__"__ Drufus announced._

_Jacob panicked. __"__I am not Herod__'__s subject and you have no jurisdiction here!__"_

_The men holding Jacob by the arms momentarily loosened their grip, for what their captive had stated was correct. They had no right to dispense justice in the name of King Herod. This was far past the Judean border. _

"_Hold him!__"__ Drufus screamed, spittle flying._

_Brutally conditioned to obey orders, the two soldiers, with sorrow in their eyes, reluctantly tightened their hold upon their victim. __"__Bring him here.__"__ Drufus pointed to a large rock. The soldiers exchanged a subtle look. _

_Then Jacob erupted in a whirlwind of arms and legs, struggling madly to free himself. But the soldiers, as loathe as they were to do the captain__'__s bidding, were far stronger and bigger than Jacob. They forced the young man to his knees, his upper body resting on the rock, his right arm extended out in front of him. Jacob yelled in vain for help on the desolate road, but neither his desperation nor his dignity would permit him to beg for mercy. _

_Drufus walked around to face Jacob, his sword poised to deliver the brutal blow that would sever his hand from his arm. Fearfully, Jacob braced himself for the blow. _

_But the blow never came. The act of being forced to lean his upper body over the rock caused the amulet around Jacob__'__s neck, which Gaius had given him, to swing out, exposing it to open view. When Drufus saw the amulet, he froze. He stared in disbelief at what he was seeing, for he recognized it and knew to whom it had once belonged. There could be no doubt that this was the very same amulet, which he had seen Gaius wearing for as long as he had known him. _

_The capricious gods had once again given him favor, but what game did they play now? Drufus leaned over to look the young man in his terror-filled eyes. Then he reached for the amulet and, with a slow smirk, ripped the string that held it from around his neck and held it before the startled face. __"__The whore-spawn who gave this to you - where is he?__"_

"_My __–__ my uncle gave it to me. He bought it from a trader.__"_

_Drufus again struck Jacob across his battered, swollen face. __"__You lie. This amulet belongs to the man whom I seek. It was given to him by his father. Gaius Felix Justus would never have sold it to a trader. He gave it you. Why? Have you taken him to your bed?__"_

_A hard, closed expression came over the young man__'__s face. _

"_Get him on his feet,__"__ the captain demanded. __"__Bind his hands together in front of him.__"_

_One soldier bound Jacob__'__s hands while the other put his hand on Jacob__'__s shoulder as if to apologize for what was about to happen._

_Drufus looked at a low branch from the tree where Jacob had hidden himself, then he commanded his men to throw the rope over the branch, pull it taut, then secure it to the trunk of the tree. Jacob__'__s arms were now raised painfully above his head, his toes barely touching the ground. _

_Jacob__'__s heart beat wildly in his chest. He could scarcely breathe as he prayed for the courage to endure what he must. Gaius, Gaius, he mentally chanted. _

_Drufus, eager to see Jacob once more bloody and twisting in pain, ripped the back of his garments down, baring his back and shoulders. Then he walked over to his horse, removed the whip he carried with him and walked over to his men, Titus and Manius. _

_Titus and Manius, who wanted no part in Drufus__'__ bloodsport, backed away. Titus spoke up, his voice low and nervous. __"__This is wrong, __S__ir. You have no authority to beat this man.__"_

"_**I**__ am not going to beat him. __**You**__ are. I am your superior, and I order you to do it!__"__ Drufus snapped, his voice bordering on hysteria, his body fairly shaking with need to sate his sadistic thirst for blood. _

_Manius threw the whip to the ground in disgust. __"__You want him beaten, do it yourself.__"_

"_You dare to defy me?__"__ Drufus screamed in rage. __"__I will have you both executed for this treachery!__"_

"_You! You do it!__"__ Drufus picked the whip up and attempted to shove it into Titus__'__ hands, but the other soldier also refused to take it. _

_Drufus fixed them with a cold stare as an eerie calm came over him. __"__You will both pay for this, I swear by the gods.__"__ Then Drufus, whip in hand, prepared to wield it on his prisoner himself. _

"_Drufus, if you do this, you will never see Jerusalem again. You will become as a dead man walking,__"__ Jacob warned him._

_Drufus laughed in mocking amusement. __"__Then let the dead enjoy their fill of food, drink, and pleasure while they may, for it will be much longer than the fleeting sands of time that you have left in your life.__"__ The captain drew close. __"__Tell me where that demonspawn, Gaius is, and I will show you mercy.__"_

_The young man refused to respond. He had already tasted King Herod__'__s __"__mercy__"__. Herod__'__s captain would be no different. Jacob, determined to remain silent, gritted his teeth and rested his forehead against the tree. _

_Drufus cruelly let the moment hang in the agony of anticipation of the first blow. When it finally came, the explosion of fiery pain that ripped down Jacob__'__s back, cut deep into his flesh and set his nerve endings seemingly throughout his entire body, aflame. The agony of that first blow took his breath away and threatened to send his mind spiraling into a dark, unreachable place._

_The second blow fell, and the blood flowed freely down Jacob__'__s chin where he had bitten through his lip. The third blow drew a moan of pain from Jacob. The fourth blow that fell shattered the young man__'__s will to remain silent. His piercing scream of intense agony reverberated deep inside. _

_The howl of pain and rage reached the approaching Zakif__'__s ears._

_Gaius, with careful speed and stealth, was taking a path back to Jacob that would circle back around where his approach would not be seen by Drufus and his men. Suddenly a chilling scream ripped through the air, piercing Gaius__'__ ears and shredding his soul. He abruptly halted his horse, his head tilting to the side as he listened. He knew from whose throat that tortured cry had been wrenched. _

_His blood ran cold with horror at the depth of anguish in that cry. Then the killing rage came upon him. There was but one truth that existed for the enraged Zakif. Drufus was hurting his Madreech! By whatever means Drufus and his men had brought suffering to his Madreech, they would feel it ten times over. _

_Gaius nudged his horse forward into a gallop until he crested the hill and got his first view of Jacob. His Madreech__'__s face was contorted into a bloody, bruised mask of pain. Blood dripped from his mouth. The back that bore so many healed scars was ripped and bloody once again. The sight of the whip, dripping with Jacob__'__s blood and bits of his torn flesh clinging to it, nearly sent Gaius into The Void. The Zakif fought to remain in the present. His Madreech needed him, though it was clear he was far too late in arriving. Gaius looked upon the trio of men and his hard, cold, icy eyes counted them as dead already. _

_Gaius unsheathed his sward and pushed his horse forward, down the hill. Titus and Manius saw_

_Gaius, like death personified, approaching. __"__Drufus,__"__ Titus remarked in a trembling voice, __"__Gaius, whom you seek, is here.__"_

_Drufus whirled around in shock, his hands clutching the bloody whip. So it was true! Gaius had not been killed in Bethlehem! Like lightning he grabbed Jacob around his waist, turning his body around like a shield as he held a long pointed dagger at his jugular. Jacob moaned in pain._

"_How kind of you to slither out from beneath whatever rock in Ira you were hiding under, Gaius.__"_

"_Let him go, Drufus, __"__ Gaius commanded, his voice calm and lethal._

"_I carry the favor of the gods,__"__ Drufus declared, drunk with his own deluded sense of empowerment. __"__I sought to find you and a brat that escaped the sword at Bethlehem, and look what bonus I found __–__ your little catamite who just happens to be a thief.__"_

"_He is no thief, nor catamite, but my chosen brother. Release him. Now!__"_

_Drufus smirked with feigned deference. __"__Of course, demonspawn_. _I grow tired of him. I give him back to you with my blessing.__"__ Then Drufus removed the knife from Jacob__'__s neck. Still holding on to the young man, Drufus reached up and severed the cord allowing Jacob__'__s arms to fall limply in front of his body. Then in a final act of brutality, Drufus took the dagger and stabbed Jacob in the back, causing Jacob__'__s body to spasm and arch in pain._

"_Here he is. Take him.__"_

_Drufus shoved Jacob forward and his battered and injured body hit the ground hard. The young man whimpered in distress._

_Then Gaius made his move. With reflexes far faster then Drufus__'__, with accuracy that surpassed most men__'__s, and with a killing fury that Drufus could not conceive, Gaius took his sword and using it as a javelin, he threw it at Drufus. His arm was quick and his aim true. The sword flew through the air and pierced Drufus straight through his neck, effectively skewering and pinning him to the same tree where Jacob had suffered his torment. _

_Drufus__'__ body continued to twitch, but his face was frozen for all time in an expression of shock and disbelief as his executioner approached and then coolly took back the amulet from Drufus__'__ belt. _

_Then, Gaius, looking feral, drew down upon the two remaining soldiers like an avenging angel._

"_No, Gaius, no...__"__ Jacob moaned weakly, __"__please... do not let their blood be a stain on your soul. Have mercy.__"_

_Gaius spared his injured friend a glance while considering his words. Then he continued to advance on the men. __"__Do you want to know the day of your deaths?__"__ he asked. _

_The chilling tone of the voice from the man they both knew and respected caused the men to back away in fright, saying nothing. _

_Gaius stopped mere inches from them. __"__It will be the day that you ever again set your eyes upon my brother.__"_

_At hearing that, both men turned. Leaping upon their horses, they rode back the way they had come at full gallop. _

_Gaius ran to Jacob and gently cradled him in his arms. His Madreech__'__s body was shaking violently and he was struggling to speak. __"__Maryam? Yeshua?__"__ he managed to ask._

"_They are on their way to Egypt. Thanks to you.__"_

_Jacob__'__s broken lips curved up in a slight smile. __"__No... n-not just me. You too...__"__ His voice trailed off weakly. His eyes started to slide close in perpetual sleep._

_Frantic, Gaius began to bind the bleeding stab wound in Jacob__'__s back. __"__No, Jacob! Stay with me. You are my Madreech. Your Zakif has not given you leave to depart this world!__"_

_Jacob__'__s lips were moving again and Gaius increased his hearing to capture the faint words. __"__I__'__m so c-c-cold,__"__ he whispered plaintively. _

"_I know.__"__ Gaius took the fine red robe of Drufus, which he had discarded on the ground and gently wrapped it around his Madreech. Then, placing one arm underneath Jacob__'__s bent knees and the other under his arms, Gaius lifted him gently. The soft sob of pain was nearly Gaius__'__ undoing. Had Titus and Manius still been there, they both would have paid for Jacob__'__s suffering with their lives. _

_Gaius brought the broken young man over to his horse. Getting Jacob up on the animal was an ordeal in itself, and Gaius hated himself for the additional pain he was inadvertently inflicting upon the wounded man. It felt like an eternity, but finally, Jacob was upon the horse, with Gaius sitting behind him. _

_The horse had no more than started forward when Gaius felt Jacob__'__s body go limp and fall deeply unconscious. _


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes: Thank you once again, Chiclete for your kind comments!**

**Shaw Emergency & Trauma Center**

Captain Rolph, of the Washington State Patrol, Wolf Lodge Detachment, made his way down the quiet corridors of the hospital. The soles of his shoes on the linoleum made a loud noise that seemed to reverberate down the hall in a manner that made the man self-conscious. He rounded a corner and was relieved to have found the men he was looking for.

The detective and the captain from Cascade were in the waiting room. By the looks of things, both men had succumbed to weariness and the stress of waiting for word on the young man they had come to rescue. They were both asleep in their respective hard, unyielding chairs, heads lolling back on necks that would later complain bitterly about the abuse.

Captain Rolph sighed. He hated to disturb them, but time was of the essence. His mission was twofold: one, he was eager to find out how their friend was doing, and two, he had some news to impart, as well as a heads-up concerning impending media interest.

"Detective Ellison, Captain Banks."

Jim stirred and looked groggily around, but Simon remained deeply asleep, his soft snores never breaking their pattern. Fear made Jim's gut clench, but as soon as he recognized who it was standing in front of him, he sat up and put his finger over his mouth in a hushing motion so that Simon would not be disturbed. Jim got up and then he and Rolph took a walk down the corridor while Ellison stretched and cracked his stiff neck.

"Detective Ellison, how is Mr. Sandburg doing?"

Jim rubbed his eyes tiredly. "He's still critical. The doctor allowed us into the trauma room about two and a half hours ago. He's still being warmed up. He can't breathe on his own yet, and he's got this chest compression device basically doing the work for his heart."

"Damn," the captain swore. "I'm sorry, Detective Ellison."

"Jim. Call me Jim."

"Sure. So, what's going to happen next?"

"The doctor said that whenever his body reaches normal temperature, they'll try shocking his heart again. If that doesn't restore his heartbeat, then that's it. They'll declare him dead." Jim's voice shook from the rawness of that admission and the deeply rooted fear that that was exactly what would happen.

"Is there anything I can do?" Rolph sincerely inquired.

"Yeah, there is." Desperate for a distraction, Jim stopped and leaned wearily against the wall. "You can tell me why you're really here."

The captain took no offense at the implication of Jim's words. He was equally direct. "Harris and some other search and rescue volunteers found your friend's car. As you can imagine, it was completely demolished. But that's not all they found. They found the deceased body of a woman who apparently had given birth at the scene. There was no ME at the scene, of course, but by the condition of the body, she looked like she died of severe trauma to her upper body sustained during the accident."

Jim felt sick with sorrow. "Do you know this woman's name, or how she ended up riding with Blair?

"Her name was Emily Kojack. Her husband reported her missing just a few hours ago. According to Ed, her husband, Emily was going to visit her mother in the hospital in Idaho, but the woman passed away before she arrived."

"How was she getting to Idaho?"

"According to the husband, she took the only car they had. Apparently, it wasn't in very good shape. They haven't had much money to live off of lately – Ed was a schoolteacher, but he was laid off some time ago."

"That's a hell of a thing," Jim said sympathetically.

"Yeah. Imagine having to find out your wife is dead and you're a new father at the same time."

"He's on his way here?"

"As we speak. Poor bastard. I was told he completely broke down at the news."

"Any man would be devastated," Jim replied. Suddenly a frown appeared on the detective's face. "What happened to Mrs. Kojack's car?"

"We put an ABP out on it and didn't get back any hits in Washington State. That's when we checked with the Idaho State Patrol and they found her car, abandoned at a place called,no comma Trucker Mike's Diner.

"Troopers there interviewed an eye-witness, a waitress who's worked there for quite some time." Rolph looked curiously at the big, grim-looking detective. He'd read the witness's description of the man's partner. The woman had described him as a young, long-haired hippie type, with big blue innocent-looking puppy dog eyes. The trooper just couldn't see the man before him with his severe military haircut and hard bearing as being partnered with anyone who would fit that description. Still, partner he was, and Rolph was determined to let the man know what his partner had done to assist a total stranger.

"Your partner's got some set on him."

For the first time in hours, Jim allowed himself a slight smile. "What happened?"

"Well, it was like this..."

When Jim returned to the waiting area where Simon slept on, he had two fresh cups of coffee in hand. Jim was thinking about what the trooper had told him. Among other things, he had delivered a warning about rising media interest in the story of two men who had come from Cascade to search for one of their own in the aftermath of a highly dangerous rockslide. Rolph was also convinced it would only be a matter of time before the full story of Blair's rescue of a mother and the subsequent birth and rescue of her baby would send the media into a frenzy.

Just then Dr. Southerland, looking weary, but very pleased, entered the waiting area.

Ellison closed his eyes in profound relief. Whatever news the doctor had, she wasn't here to tell him that his Guide, his best friend, his brother, was dead. "Simon, wake up." Jim urgently shook his boss awake, and he and Dr. Southerland waited for him to collect his bearings.

"I won't keep you in suspense, gentlemen. Your friend's a real fighter. We were able to re-establish both normal sinus rhythm, as well as normal respiration. In other words, his heart is beating on its own, and he's breathing on his own. Congratulations, your friend is going to recover, and I don't anticipate any long-term complications."

Ellison closed his eyes; the tension seemed to drain out of his body right before the doctor's eyes. "Thank you, Dr. Southerland," was all he could manage to say.

"Oh, thank God!" Simon looked as relieved as much as his stiff, uncomfortable body would allow. He got to his feet and gratefully accepted the cup of coffee Jim held out to him.

"Blair's been taken up to ICU for just a short time for close observation, then in a few hours, he'll be moved to a regular room. The orthopedic surgeon will probably want to schedule surgery on Blair's leg in a day or two. Barring any complications from that, you can take him home soon." Southerland glanced at her watch. "Give them about another twenty minutes or so and you should be able to see him again. A word of advice, gentlemen?"

"I know what you're going to say," Simon muttered.

"Good. You both look like hell and I don't want you scaring my patient. It will be a while before he's awake. Go get cleaned up, get something to eat, and maybe a little real rest at one of the local motels. By the time you do all that, Blair should be in a regular room and you can visit as much as you like during normal visiting hours."

"That sounds reasonable. Jim, what do you say?" Simon desperately hoped Jim would not be stubborn about a perfectly sound idea. He was, therefore, pleasantly surprised and more than a little relieved when Jim assented. But Jim had one request of Simon, and he would not be denied.

"I can't leave until I go up to the neo-natal unit and check on the baby girl. If you think I'm going to see Sandburg and tell him I didn't personally check to see how she's doing, then you don't understand what will happen if I don't."

"I get the picture, Jim." And he did. Simon could already see Sandburg, well or not, dragging an IV pole behind him in search of the baby girl to verify for himself that she was fine. "Let's go."

Then Dr. Southerland shook each of the men's hands. "Good-bye, and Merry Christmas."

Jim looked startled, then he smiled. "Merry Christmas."

Baby Girl Kojack lay in her hospital bassinette, asleep. The tiny infant was swathed in a pink blanket, and she wore a pink and blue striped cap on her head. Neither the oxygen prongs in her nostrils, nor the heart monitor attached to her detracted from the fact that she was a beautiful baby girl.

Simon admired the child while Jim conducted his own crude medical assessment using his senses. It hadn't mattered that the nurse had assured him the baby was doing very well – he needed to confirm this for himself. He and Simon were lucky to have been granted any access to the baby at all, even if it was just a view from behind a glass pane.

Security around maternity wards and neo-natal units was higher than just about any other place in the hospital. Fortunately for Jim, the staff on duty knew the story behind Baby Girl Kojack. They'd heard about the baby's rescuer who was fighting for his life downstairs and of how the young man's law enforcement friends and partner had defied all dangers to look for him. Thus, the eloquent speech, which Jim had prepared himself to give in order to get information about the baby's status, was not needed.

The nurse was happy to describe the baby's health in general terms, and both Simon and Jim had been allowed past the initial secured door where they could see the baby. Jim gave a slight nod of affirmation. Despite the tragic circumstances behind her entrance into the world, this baby was going to be just fine.

And so was Blair.

"I'm ready for that hotel room, Simon." Jim looked at his boss and he let his eyes convey all of the depths of profound gratitude he felt at how his boss and friend had stood by him, supported him, and had been there to see him through some of the toughest hours he'd had to face in a very long time.

Simon read Jim like a book, but all he said was, "Me too, Jim. Me too."

For Ellison, that response was more than sufficient.

TBC

**Thank you in advance for the feedback. **


	15. Chapter 15

_**Dedicated to those who want to know what happens next. **_

_**Thank you, Zuzanny, HyperMint, Siltrana, Chiclete for acknowledging the existence of this story with a shout-out. It's very kind.**_

_**BTW, I'm still confused as to why the underscore lines I put in to separate scene changes between paragraphs disappear in the postings. I don't think they are missing from my other stories or even some earlier chapters… **_

_**Ira**_

"_Aaron! Aaron!__"__ The loud voice that reached the pacing man inside the inn was full of grief and pressing urgency. The portly man__'__s heart quailed in his breast for he knew that voice belonged to Gaius, and only some grave danger to his nephew would cause the hard, disciplined soldier to shout with that degree of panic. _

"_No, no, no,__"__ Aaron muttered in denial as he ran to the door and out to the courtyard. He was just in time to see Gaius leap from his horse, lift the limp and bloody body of Jacob into his arms, and come running towards him. __"__What have you done?__"__ Aaron screamed in fear and anguish. _

_The front of Gaius was drenched in Jacob__'__s blood, and his grim face made the servants, who had been working outside, stand back in fear. Aaron__'__s children, who had been playing outside, recoiled in horror at the sight, but Rachel ran towards to her cousin, tears streaming down her face as she saw his condition. Aaron quickly intercepted his daughter and spoke urgently to her. __"__Rachel, find Naomi. Tell her to come as fast as she can to my chambers and to bring __w__ith her all she has in the way of medicine and bandages.__"_

_The young girl ran as fast as she could to do her father__'__s bidding. Meanwhile, Aaron directed Gaius to bring Jacob inside to his chambers, which had a large, comfortable. _

_Aaron quickly made it ready and then Gaius gently placed his bloody burden down. With steady, sure hands, Gaius removed the shredded, blood-stained garments. All the while, Jacob remained unconscious. _

_A moment later, a frantic Naomi, followed by Aaron__'__s mother-in-law, came into the room. When she saw the condition of her son, every vivid nightmare, every wretched memory from Jerusalem came to life again in front on her very eyes. Jacob was supposed to be safe in Ira. How could this have happened? Hadn__'__t he suffered enough in his young life already? Naomi staggered blindly forward, almost swooning from the intense horror of it all. _

_Somehow she made it to her son__'__s bedside and she stroked the face, which she knew and loved so well, but hardly recognized for all its battered, swollen appearance. Naomi wasted no time asking for explanations. There would be time enough to demand them later. Right now, her son__'__s lifeblood was seeping from his body and that needed to stop. __"__Help me turn him over,__"__ she commanded. _

_When Gaius and Aaron turned Jacob on to his stomach, Aaron__'__s mother-in-law turned away in shock. The woman__'__s stomach revolted and she vomited violently on the carpet. __"__Get her out of here!__"__ Naomi screamed, herself on the verge of a hysterical breakdown. _

_Aaron hastily shepherded the old woman out the door. Then he summoned servants to clean up the mess. A bowl with fresh water and some rags were also produced. Naomi reached for a rag in order to clean the gaping wound in Jacob__'__s back, but Gaius stayed her hand and reached for the rag himself. __"__Let me. My fingers will tell better than yours how deep the wound is and how much debris there may be.__"__ A measured look passed between them before Naomi relented. _

_She watched silently as Gaius efficiently probed the wound and then cleaned it thoroughly of the dirt and small pebbles that had contaminated it when Drufus had pushed Jacob into the ground. When Gaius indicated, she poured water from the bowl directly onto the wound. Aaron quickly replaced the sodden clothes that had been placed under Jacob to absorb the water. _

"_Sister, did the dagger pierce his organs inside?__"__ Aaron asked fretfully. He hated seeing the man who he irrationally blamed for his nephew__'__s grave injuries, tending him with his mother seeming to defer to him. _

_Naomi__'__s voice trembled with ill-concealed bitterness. __"__I am not a surgeon, Aaron. I do know that if he has such a hurt inside, he will bleed. Then he will die.__"_

_Aaron looked at Gaius with a look of pure hatred. Gaius for his part was single-mindedly focused on cleaning the deep, painful lacerations on Jacob__'__s back. He was gentle, but quick, for he was desperate to be done with it before the young man regained consciousness. As for an internal organ injury, Gaius__'__ sensitive fingers had detected nothing that would indicate that some place inside Jacob__'__s body was filling up with blood and becoming hard and distended. _

_Nonetheless, Gaius looked the like weight of the world was on his shoulders, for his heightened sense of touch had already detected a rise in Jacob__'__s temperature. This was, in Gaius__'__ battlefield experience, the beginnings of a fever that could very well ravish his Madreech__'__s body and sap his strength beyond his ability to hold on. He said nothing of it though. If fever were here, its presence would become apparent soon enough. _

_Working together, Naomi and Gaius set about sewing Jacob__'__s torn flesh on his back together, while Aaron watched and fumed. Finally, the innkeeper could hold his peace no longer. __"__Gaius,__"__ he began coldly, __"__you swore to me that you would keep him safe. Is this the quality of both your word and your definition of safe?__"_

"_It is neither,__"__ Gaius replied calmly. __"__This is the work of Drufus, whose purpose in coming to Ira was two-fold as you know.__"_

"_What did any of that have to do with Jacob?__"__ Aaron angrily demanded._

"_I needed to ensure that I reached Ira before Drufus and his men did so that Joseph could take his family to safety.__"__ Gaius breathed deeply. __"__Jacob volunteered to stay behind and delay them.__"_

_Aaron practically vibrated with fury while Naomi remained silent and in control of her anger. __"__Jacob was your friend. Your brother! You left him there like a lamb set before the slaughterhouse! You are a cowardly dog!__"_

_The condemnation on top of Gaius__'__ own guilt bruised the Zakif__'__s heart even further than it already was. For himself, he expected no mercy, but for Jacob__'__s sacrifice, the Zakif demanded respect. His blue eyes grew cold like glaciers and Aaron caught only a fleeting glimpse of the chilling warrior that lurked within the man. __"__Jacob was afraid to face those men alone, and yet he found the will to do it. Your nephew is no mindless sheep. He has the courage of a lion. See to it that your words do not dishonor him.__"_

_Troubled, Aaron drew back a little before he chanced asking a question for which he was not entirely sure he wanted an answer. __"__What became of Drufus and his men?__"_

_The hard voice of the Zakif answered, __"__Drufus received just recompense for his violence against Jacob. The two with him were spared their lives only because Jacob is merciful and I am not.__"_

"_Drufus is dead?__"__ Aaron cautiously sought clarification. _

"_His body is a rotten feast for vultures, pinned by the neck with my sword to the very same tree where he tortured Jacob,__"__ Gaius coolly affirmed._

_Such news had a calming effect upon the normally non-violent man, and some of the anger he held inside against Gaius waned. However, that anger threatened to erupt again when Jacob, who was beginning to stir under the ministrations of Naomi and Gaius, began moaning softly. _

_Gaius increased his speed, drawing the needle with its catgut thread up and down into the flesh. Then the long, luxurious eyelashes framing the young man__'__s face began to flutter. Suddenly, Jacob screamed, arched off the bed then collapsed in excruciating pain. His entire body was shaking so hard that Aaron__'__s bed rocked from the motion. Naomi couldn__'__t bear to look at the tears streaming down from her son__'__s eyes or hear his harsh, difficult breathing. _

"_Don__'__t touch me!__"__ Jacob begged desperately, panting in mindless terror. Naomi tried in vain to soothe her son as she quickly mixed a strong pain-relieving concoction. She handed it over to Gaius to feed to Jacob while she continued working on his back. _

_Gaius leaned over Jacob and his voice was low and comforting. __"__Drink this, Jacob, it will help ease your pain.__"__ He guided the drink to Jacob__'__s broken lips and lifted his head as high as he could from the awkward position the young man was in. Gaius had no idea if Jacob understood what he was trying to do, but he managed to get most of the drink into him. _

_He had no sooner settled the injured man back down when Jacob groaned loudly and clutched his stomach. There was no help for it. He spewed the medicine back up violently, his stomach painfully contracting. He was too weak to feel humiliated, in too much pain to know that Gaius was not ashamed by his disgusting display of weakness. The Zakif, who had tended to far worse in his time as a soldier, set about cleaning him up with gentle dignity. _

_Gaius__'__ worst fear, which he had not voiced aloud, was realized the next morning. By dawn__'__s light, Jacob was battling a high fever that would bring him, over the next two days, closer to death than he__'__d ever been before. _

_That first night, Aaron, Gaius and Naomi tended to Jacob. The air was thick with the tension between the three, and as if sensing it, Jacob grew fretful. The fever gradually came upon him, and soon the sheets he lay upon, and the light covering over his legs and hips became drenched with sweat, forcing the three of them to change them frequently. _

_Gaius hated that task, for Jacob tried valiantly, but in vain, to suppress any expression of the agony he was in whenever he was lifted and moved. The tears that ran from the tightly closed eyes and down the colorless face were sufficient fodder for the Zakif__'__s own nightmares, but the sobs that escaped Jacob__'__s lips made Gaius angry at himself for not being able to bear Jacob__'__s pain himself. He could only stroke the sweat-soaked forehead and coax Jacob to unfist his hands, where he tightly clutched the sheets beneath him. Somehow, the pain-filled eyes would open and Jacob, seeing Gaius before him, would look upon him with wordless relief and gratitude. _

_Any goodwill Gaius__'__ act of justice regarding Drufus had generated with Aaron evaporated in the face of his nephew__'__s suffering. Aaron continued to snap at Gaius while, for his part, the Zakif ignored him. At the last barb directed at Gaius, Naomi had snapped. __"__Peace!__"__ she__'__d hissed angrily. __"__Do you not see the comfort this man brings to my son? I don__'__t care if you like it or not. Leave this room or leave him be.__"_

_Aaron, thinking it best to look to his own children, left, but only after first placing his hand gently upon the back of Jacob__'__s head and extracting a promise that he would be called at once should he be needed. _

_That was hours ago. Gaius and Naomi had spent an exhausting night caring for Jacob, bathing him, changing the poultices that she__'__d carefully prepared, helping him to drink the medicine which more times than not, would not remain in his stomach to do its work._

_Despite their combined efforts, Jacob__'__s fever climbed higher and burned with a fierce intensity that pushed the injured man closer to a state of delirium. Naomi looked into the exhausted face of the man across from her. She knew her own must reflect the same exhaustion, but she thought of what Jacob would say as she spoke quietly. __"__Gaius, you have been here all night. Why don__'__t you rest in your rooms for a while and come back?__"_

_Gaius turned his intense blue eyes upon his Madreech__'__s mother. __"__I will not leave him.__"_

_Despite the grimness of the situation, Naomi__'__s lips curved slightly upwards. __"__This room has no chamber pot.__"__ It was a practical reminder of something that even Gaius could not ignore. The reserved man flushed. Then he reluctantly stood up, placing Jacob__'__s hand gently back on the bed. __"__I will ask for food and drink to be brought here.__"__ Then Gaius took his leave, and after having seen to his own personal needs and to the delivery of food and drink, he returned._

_When Gaius resumed his place by Jacob__'__s bedside, he found the blue eyes wide open, staring vacantly. Slowly, the ill man__'__s eyes focused on Gaius. Jacob licked his dry lips as his hand clutched reflexively around Giaus__'__. __"__I__'__m__…__ s-sorry,__"__ he whispered. _

_Gaius was puzzled. The big man leaned forward, gently pushing away the wet clinging hair that was plastered to Jacob__'__s face __"__For what, brother?__"_

"_The amulet you gave me__…"__ Jacob__'__s voice weakened as he began to pant from the fresh wave of pain that besieged him. __"__He __–__ he took it from me.__"__ Jacob squeezed his eyes shut, fearing to see the disappointment in his Zakif__'__s eyes. His injured body rendered him vulnerable to his raw emotions and confused thought processes. _

"_And I took back your property. Even Drufus__'__ filthy hands could not defile it.__"__ With those words, Gaius reached into his tunic, grabbed the leather string and pulled the amulet up and over his head. Silently, he placed it in Jacob__'__s hand and gently closed his fingers around it. _

_Jacob dared to raise his eyes to his Zakif__'__s face. The condemnation he feared he would see was not present. He saw only understanding emanating from the eyes that were so accustomed to viewing the world with suspicion and mistrust. He nearly wept with relief from being absolved of the guilt he had no reason to carry. His strength failed him, and he could no longer keep his eyes open, but he managed to mouth the words, __"__Thank you,__"__ before the darkness claimed him._

_The next hours that passed were excruciatingly difficult ones for Gaius and Naomi as they watched, with growing feelings of helplessness, Jacob growing weaker with each passing hour. The fever ravaged his body and tormented his mind with nightmares from which he could not escape. Jacob cried out in fear and tried to get up from the bed, but he was too weak to move very far. This perceived inability to escape caused the young man to sob brokenly in despair. Gaius__'__ heart was wholly wrung with pity and not knowing by what other means he could comfort him, he lay down next to him and held the burning body close. _

_Through it all, Gaius and Naomi reached a truce of sorts. Jacob__'__s mother ceased to think about ways to keep her son from going to Jerusalem with this man who had come into their lives and disrupted it so. Now her prayer was only that he survive this and live as a free man. Wherever, and with whomever, was no longer her concern. Naomi watched the big man, a Centurion, not even a Jew, holding her son tenderly as if he were a babe. Both men slept and for now, Jacob was still. _This man, Gaius, is no ordinary man_, Naomi mused. _His extraordinary gifts have somehow bound him to Jacob and he to him._ Deep within her heart, she knew that she had no choice but to accept what had been preordained long ago. Her heart told her what she must do, and her mind wisely acquiesced. From this day forth, Gaius would be as a son to her. The matter settled, Naomi gave in to her own weariness. She closed her eyes and slipped into sleep. _

_The afternoon faded into evening, and like the sun, Jacob__'__s strength continued to wane, his fever climbing to new heights. Jacob faded in and out of consciousness, but even in sleep, there was no relief from his suffering. When he was awake, he bit his lip and lay trembling. When at last the darkness overpowered him, he was helpless to prevent himself from giving voice to his pain. He lay moaning and sometimes, the sound was too much for Naomi to bear. During those times, she would slip away to meditate, either in her rooms or upon the rooftop. _

_From time to time, Aaron left his day-to-day tasks of running the inn to sit with Jacob. Once, the two eldest of Aaron__'__s children, Samuel and Rachel, were allowed to accompany their father inside while the youngest were forbidden to enter. The little ones were justifiably fearful. They could not comprehend why or how someone would want to hurt their beloved cousin and teacher. All they knew was that a somber air had descended upon the home they__'__d known all their lives as a place full of life and laughter. There were hushed tones, and adults who ceased talking once they entered a room. Even with their child minds, they knew that they were saying that death would claim their cousin__'__s life. The question, __"__why?__"__ burned unasked on their lips, but for them, there would be no answers._

_He was on fire. He screamed in mindless agony as the flames feasted on his scorched flesh, and the odor of his own cooking blood, bone, and flesh rose to his nostrils. The fate he had earned for himself was at last coming true. He had been deluded to think that Herod would allow him to escape execution when good men such as his rabbis, Matthias and Judas, and his closest friends had died this gruesome, painful way. _

_It was never right that he had escaped. He had been given a reprieve that he had never asked for, nor had he been somehow more deserving of it, while his friends had not. Apparently, Matthias and Judas agreed for suddenly their burned faces with their hard, leering expressions were before Jacob, mocking him as he screamed and screamed._

_Now he knew the truth. The stake that he was tied to was reserved for him all along. The bright red flames had been kept burning high for the day when he would be dragged back and made to suffer and die in the fire. There was to be no end to this punishment. He knew he was doomed to endure worse torments than Ghenna__'__s when even his mother__'__s bitter face appeared to join in the mocking. Naomi__'__s mouth in her painted face shouted at him, telling him that he deserved to burn for turning her into a filthy whore. For that alone he deserved this endless torment. _

_He was alone; lost and abandoned by even his Zakif. _

_The high fever was not only laying brutal siege to Jacob__'__s body, but to his mind as well. With every passing hour, Jacob__'__s tenuous hold on life loosened. _

_Gaius__'__ stoic face concealed well his fear that if the tide did not change, if Jacob__'__s fever did not break soon, then his Madreech would slip into the darkness forever. Naomi was not fooled though, for what Gaius__'__ face did not betray, his actions did. The soldier refused all attempts at conversation. He ceased to eat and drink, and he no longer paced as he had during the afternoon, but rather remained like an unmovable object by Jacob__'__s side. _

_Now the sun was setting on this second day of Jacob__'__s illness, and the tension and unspoken fears for both of them grew even stronger. Naomi was particularly wary of the night and its association with death. This was the time when souls slipped more readily into that endless night if there were none to guard against it. _

_For his part, Gaius was determined to be vigilant and to bring Jacob back from the edge, no matter how weary he felt. He tended every need of his Madreech in the almost desperate belief that the gods would spare the life of this one man if only Jacob could hold on long enough to look upon the next sun__'__s rising. But the young man spent more time unconscious than awake. He could no longer gain comfort from Gaius__'__ steadfast presence, for even in the times when Gaius saw Jacob__'__s blue eyes open, they were glazed over and held no recognition of who or where he was. _

_Once more, Gaius ran a cool cloth over Jacob__'__s burning skin as he studied the pale, drawn features with the sunken eyes and dry lips. He lost count of the times he and Naomi had bathed Jacob, tried to drip water down the parched throat or change the poultices. Their labors went unrewarded. Nothing they did seemed to have any effect on the high fever as Jacob continued to cry out and thrash weakly, deep in the throes of delirium. _

_Minutes ago, there had been some lingering amount of sunlight visible through the window. Now there was none. The only light afforded the room came from the lamps that had been lit by the servants. Even with the glow from the lamps, Aaron__'__s chamber was still only dimly illuminated, but Gaius hardly noticed as he had simply adjusted his sight when the natural light had begun to fade._

_On the other hand, the encroaching darkness seemed to take a toll on Naomi. The thought of losing her son this way was unbearable enough, for she too had clearly read the signs that Jacob was nearing the end of his strength. But to see the depth of his suffering without being able to relieve it was growing too much for her heart to take. She kissed her son on his brow, and with a mumbled promise to return, Naomi fled the room, leaving Gaius to a solitary vigil._

_Later that evening, Aaron came to look in on his nephew and see to Gaius. He held out some food and drink and insisted that he eat it. Gaius stared numbly at the food and drink, and then up at Aaron__'__s face. __"__Do you think this inn needs to gain another patient?__"__ Aaron gruffly asked. _

_When Gaius still made no move, Aaron folded his hands over his belly and sighed. __"__Gaius, even a man like me, who is set in his ways can acknowledge an instance when he lacks wisdom.__"__ Aaron looked Gaius directly in his eyes. __"__I hold you blameless in what happened to Jacob. You did not bring this evil here.__"__ Aaron__'__s eyes strayed down to the form of his nephew on the bed, and he nearly wept to see how transformed the formerly lively young man looked by the lines of pain that were etched on the waxen, sweat-drenched face. __"__I know that if you could, you would take his place.__"_

"_But I cannot, and it was my duty to protect him,__"__ Gaius replied, his grief and failure nearly choking him. _

"_Your powers are miraculous, Gaius, but even you cannot be in two places at once.__"_

"_I failed him,__"__ Gaius said tonelessly. _

"_You told me once to be careful that my words did not dishonor Jacob__'__s choice.__"__ Aaron cleverly turned Gaius__'__ words against him. __"__See to it that you do the same.__"_

_The penetrating blue eyes looked intently at Aaron, and in that moment, Jacob__'__s uncle knew more than just his words were being weighed and judged. Unaware that he was holding his breath, Aaron waited for the other man__'__s response. _

_Finally, Gaius__'__ slight nod signaled that matters were settled between the two. __"__Thank you,__"__ the Zakif said gravely before slowly releasing Jacob__'__s hand to accept the food and drink. _

_His heart was still heavy, but Aaron, reclining upon some cushions, watched Gaius consume the food with a sense of satisfaction._

_The night was long and there was little moon that night to penetrate the blackness of the starless sky. One hour stretched slowly into the next. It was quiet and still outside the walls of the inn. Inside Aaron__'__s chambers though, the sound of the innkeeper__'__s gentle snoring contrasted sharply with the sound of Jacob__'__s labored breathing. After keeping vigil with Gaius for a time, he had succumbed to his need for sleep. _

_Naomi was also there, having returned to the sickroom earlier. Her precarious emotional state had drained her and she was exhausted. Now, she too slept, but only fitfully. Her will to stay awake for Jacob warred with her body__'__s need for sleep. _

_Gaius closed his eyes, but he did not sleep. He felt like he was walking on the edge of a knife, and that if he failed to maintain his vigilance in these dark hours, Jacob would slip away and his bright light extinguished forever. _

_Jacob had been unconscious for hours, delirious, fretful, and unreachable. Suddenly there was silence. Gaius thus was unprepared for the unexpected sight of Jacob looking up at him with eyes that were focused and clearly showing signs of recognition. Gaius noticed that his Madreech no longer struggled for breath, nor did he appear to be in the constant, relentless state of pain that he__'__d been in since Gaius had found him. _

_Such signs should have been evidence of returning health; an indication that the young man had turned a corner. Hope flared in the Zakif__'__s heart only to be brutally dashed as his eyes locked with Jacob__'__s. For what he saw in his Madreech__'__s eyes was sadness, regret and something else: infinite compassion. Compassion for his Zakif - for Jacob knew the fear the other man harbored of being unloved and abandoned to bear his burden of his senses alone. It was a fear that ran so deep, the reticent man could not voice it aloud. _

_Stricken, Gaius knelt by Jacob__'__s side and laid his hand on the pale face. The young man was unnaturally still, and his words were spoken in a voice so soft and weak, Gaius was forced to increase his hearing to capture them. __"__Forgive me, Gaius,__"__ Jacob began slowly. __"__My strength is spent. I cannot stay here.__"_

"_I give you no leave to go,__"__ Gaius replied desperately._

_Jacob closed his eyes and then slowly opened them again. __"__Do not be afraid, brother. I__'__ll never leave you. I am your Madreech... forever.__"__ Jacob had no more strength to speak. He could only will his eyes to communicate to his Zakif that neither time nor space had the power to come between them._

_Gaius__'__ next impassioned plea for Jacob to remain in this world died on his lips unspoken as Jacob__'__s eyes grew vacant, and the heartbeat once so strong and soothing to him, slowed and stopped altogether. Jacob__'__s eyes closed and the lungs that had labored so hard to draw air were stilled._

_Jacob__'__s spirit had stepped into eternity, leaving his broken body behind. _

TBC

**Feedback is love! ; ) **


	16. Chapter 16

_**For HyperMint and Chiclete **_

**Shaw Emergency & Trauma Center**

At 9:00 am Christmas morning, Detective Jim Ellison, carrying a small Menorah in hand, and Captain Simon Banks, carrying a small Christmas tree, arrived outside of room 526. Jim, uncharacteristically tentative, hesitated before opening the door. He knew he wasn't being entirely rational in thinking that perhaps the new physician who had briefed them on Blair's condition that morning had exaggerated the extent of Sandburg's improved health.

Try as he might, the Sentinel could not get out of his mind the image of his Guide lying so still on the examination table, wires, tubes and leads sprouting out from everywhere, unable to breathe on his own, a mechanical machine forcing his blood through his body. This is what he half-feared he would see again. He never wanted to see that sight again. Even if he lived to be a hundred, it would be too soon.

Jim took a deep breath, then pushed open the door.

When they entered the room, they saw that Blair was still asleep. Ellison felt a wave of relief wash over him at the sight of his Guide, safe and sleeping peacefully. Jim smiled. Gone was the mechanical compression belt from around his chest. So too was the ventilator's breathing tube from down his throat. A nasal cannula, a pulse oximeter adorning his finger, and a single intravenous line were all that remained as visible reminders of how ill Sandburg had been. His frostbitten nose and cheek had painful-looking, intact, bloody blisters covered with aloe vera cream, but those would heal in time. The splinted leg, with its broken bone, lay outside the covers for easy access by the nursing staff. He still required surgery on it, but that too would heal.

The anthropologist lay on his back with his head towards the side, his riotous long curls framing his face. He looked impossibly young and vulnerable. Dr. Davis, Blair's new physician, had assured them both that Sandburg had slept a medically-assisted, deep sleep, and had not awakened during the night.

Banks maneuvered his way around Jim. "He looks good, doesn't he, Jim?" Simon crossed the room and set the Christmas tree down on the nightstand. Then he sat down in the leather chair farthest from the bedside.

"A thousand percent, Simon." Jim grinned as he too crossed the room and carefully set the Menorah down next to the tree.

Jim gently brushed the hair back from Sandburg's face before sitting down in the other chair nearest the bed.

Jim and Simon talked while they waited for Blair to wake up. "I had hoped Blair would get to see the baby girl before her father came and got her." Jim said, referring to the fact that they had first stopped by the nursery to check on the baby, only to be told that overnight, Ed Kojack had arrived and the infant girl had been discharged to her father's care that morning.

"He deserves to see for himself that that baby girl owes her life to him," Simon agreed.

The two men then discussed Simon's need to return to Cascade, and Jim's need to remain behind in order to bring Blair home after his leg surgery, which was scheduled for the next day. A nurse came in, smiled at them, then proceeded to check her patient. Roughly ten minutes after the nurse left the room, Blair began to show signs of regaining consciousness. He sighed softly and shifted.

"He's coming to, Simon." Jim's hushed tone did not disguise his eager anticipation as he leaned forward.

Blair's eyelids began to flutter, the long lashes appearing even darker against his pale face. "Chief. That's it, buddy, wake up," Jim urged.

The blue eyes opened wide, and Jim grinned to see the recognition in them. "Welcome back, Chief." Jim's voice turned suddenly hoarse with emotion. He dropped his eyes, embarrassed at the intensity of his feelings.

"Good to see you, Sandburg." Simon's dark face loomed over the bed, a welcoming smile on his face.

Blair licked his lips and then grimaced at the taste of the ointment. "Jim? W-where am I?" he breathed out, tired and confused.

"You're in the hospital at Wolf Lodge, buddy. How do you feel?"

Blair responded to the gentle inquiry by closing his eyes. "Tired," he murmured softly. "My face hurts," he added. Jim stopped Blair's hand from reaching up to touch the blisters on his cheek.

"You have a touch of frostbite on your face and hand, but you're gonna be just fine."

"Mmm," Blair replied. Then his eyes flew open suddenly as his memory returned full force. His blue eyes reflected his panic. "Jim!" Blair began to struggle in the bed. "Oh God, Jim, help me," he pleaded desperately. "Where's Noel? Where's the baby girl?" he shouted, almost hysterical.

Startled at hearing the name of the baby and eager to calm his partner, Jim blurted out, "Shh... Blair. I wish you could see her, but I'm sorry, she's gone."

The words Jim spoke were meant for comfort, but they unintentionally had the opposite effect as Blair took his words to mean that Noel had died.

"No," Blair wailed, his grief profound. "I'm so sorry, Noel, I'm so sorry." He began to weep bitterly, the tears pouring from his eyes and running down his face to dampen the pillow.

Jim realized a second too late his miscommunication. Alarmed and guilt-ridden over Blair's response, he quickly demanded Sandburg's attention. "Chief, look at me. Look at me," he said again as Blair continued to cry. "The baby, Noel… she's alive. I meant that she's no longer here in the hospital because she's fine. Her father came and got her this morning. You saved that baby's life, Blair. You did good."

The words penetrated Blair's wall of grief. He looked into Jim's face, desperate to read the truth there. What he saw made his sorrow ease and brought joy to his soul. The tears he cried now were ones of relief and happiness. Noel was alive! He hadn't failed the tiny infant who had been entrusted to his care.

Moved beyond words, Jim lowered the bedrail, sat on the edge of the bed and folded his Guide into his arms, offering comfort and shelter. Without words, he let the vulnerable man release his emotions. Over and over, Blair expressed his gratitude with his words, "Thank you," spoken softly until the words trailed off and Blair slipped into sleep.

Simon slowly backed out of the room, feeling as though he was intruding upon a moment, a very private, personal moment. He too had his own thanks to give. He'd helped his friend keep it together when he needed him most, and Blair had not only been found, but his police observer was a hero to boot. Simon Banks took a stroll through the hospital corridors until his feet took him straight to the doors of the chapel.

He ignored the unusual sensation of moisture in his eyes as he pushed open the doors and went inside.

_**Ira**_

_The howl of grief and despair that went out into the dark night was so deep and profound that it raised the hackles on all who heard it. The cries spoke of a grief that was a tangible, living force, terrible to behold. _

_Naomi and Aaron both leapt up out of their sleep in fright. It took only one glance at the sight of Gaius clutching Jacob__'__s lifeless body to himself and the dreadful look of anguish to make them understand that their worst fears had come true. Jacob had died._

_Naomi broke down in Aaron__'__s arms, wailing. Aaron clung to his sister in shock and disbelief. _

_The Zakif was alone in his grief. He saw nothing, knew nothing but the weight of the still, warm body of his dead Madreech in his arms. His pain was an all-consuming fire that burned through him, just as the fever had burned through Jacob, destroying his life. The flames of agony stripped the Zakif of all his awareness of who and where he was. _

_There was an odd roaring sound in his ears and the walls of the room seemed to undulate strangely, making him feel ill. Then the room disappeared before his unbelieving eyes. Time and space shifted, and suddenly, Gaius found himself stranded in a silent, arid region of red sand and sky. _

_He was no longer at the inn in Ira, and Jacob no longer lay dead in his arms. Confused, frightened, Gaius turned around in circles. Everywhere he looked, he saw the same barren land. The grief-stricken man bowed his head. This must be his punishment for having failed to protect the life of his Madreech. He had known all his life that he would be doomed to spend eternity alone in Hades, and now it had come to pass. _

_The hot desert winds blew, and the ghostly sound carried with it his name. __"__Gaius...__"_

_Gaius__'__ head snapped up and he looked around warily, trying to discern who or what had called his name. _

_He saw nothing._

_The wind blew again and once more, the ghostly sound fashioned itself into his name._

_This time, Gaius looked off into the distance, and when he did, he saw something in the form of a man with skin the color of night, walking towards him. _

_Gaius watched the man draw near. The man was clearly of a warrior caste. His body was heavily muscled and minimally clothed. He wore a thick necklace of animal bones carved into an intricate pattern around his neck, and he held a spear in his left hand. _

_Using his enhanced vision, Gaius noted with some disquiet that the dark man__'__s bare feet left no tracks in the red sand. _

_He was still some way away, but when Gaius next looked, the man was suddenly standing in front of him, looking at him with ageless dark eyes, out of a face that did not look quite earthly. _

_Gaius found his voice. __"__What is this place? Who are you?__"_

"_I am Salah,__"__ the black warrior replied, and his voice seemed to echo strangely. __"__Your spirit walks in another plane. I came because you summoned me.__"_

_Gaius proceeded cautiously in this strange environment. __"__I did not know you existed. How could I have called you?__"_

"_Your grief called out to me.__"__ Gravely, Salah studied the man before him. __"__Why do you grieve, Zakif?__"_

_Gaius closed his eyes and the grief that had temporary eased in the newness of this new plane of existence, returned with a vengeance. The pain was almost physical, and Gaius fell to his knees from the strength of it. It hurt to even say the truth aloud. __"__The life of my Madreech was taken from him by one from whom I should have protected him. I am alone again, and there is none who can share my burden.__"_

_Salah smiled, showing strong white teeth. __"__You speak as a babe who knows not his own strength.__"__ The smile disappeared from his face, and the warrior grew serious again. __"__Zakif, recall your Madreech from the netherworld.__"_

_Gaius despaired. __"__How? He is dead. I held him as his spirit left his body. I am a soldier. Am I not accustomed to seeing death claim men? None I ever saw die came back to life.__"__ Gaius closed his eyes and bowed his head once more._

_Two callused, strong hands gripped his face on either side. __"__Look into my eyes, Zakif. What do you see?__"_

_Gaius stared into Selah__'__s eyes that were like deep fathomless pools. What he saw there made him gasp in amazement, for in one eye he saw a strong, powerful black jaguar,_ _pacing back and forth. Once in the Roman coliseum, Gaius had seen a black jaguar and had greatly admired it above all other animals. This animal was even more impressive. Its body was sleek and its muscles rippled underneath the fur. _

_In the other eye, Gaius saw another animal, a wolf with startling eyes of blue that reminded him of Jacob__'__s. Unlike the jaguar, though, this animal appeared sickly. Its coat was matted, and it limped slowly back and forth until finally, with a whine, it turned to limp away. _

_The jaguar let loose a roar of rage and pain. _

_Selah spoke. __"__These creatures are your animal spirits __–__ your__'__s and Jacob__'__s. If you wish to restore life to your Madreech, you must do so now and quickly!__"_

"_Tell me how!__"__ Gaius all but screamed in frustration. _

"_Use the power of your animal spirit,__"__ Selah__'__s deep voice commanded._

_Desperate, Gaius willed the great cat to call the wolf to him. The wolf turned, and before it could move away again, the black jaguar gave a mighty roar and jumped from where he appeared in one eye, into the other where the wolf was. _

_Immediately, there was a brilliant, blinding light and then a deafening roar that dropped the Zakif to his knees with his hands over his ears. As his senses spiked out of control, the red desert shuddered and lurched. With a cry, the Zakif tumbled into darkness and knew no more. Around the unconscious Zakif, the spirit plane alternated between shimmering transparency and solid reality. Finally, the red sand and sky diffused into an infinite number of particles and was gone. _

_When Gaius came to himself, he slowly opened his eyes with a groan. He was no longer in the strange spirit plane, but rather, he was back in the inn where his and Naomi__'__s anguished cries had brought numerous servants, as well as Aaron__'__s two oldest children, running into the room. The crowd stared speechless, helplessly transfixed by the tragic tableau.. Now Gaius lay on the floor, surrounded by concerned but fearful looking faces looking down at him. _

_The big man tried to move, but he was prohibited from doing so by the warm, pliant body that was sprawled half on and half off him. Gaius froze. The body in his arms had the pulse of life in it. The gentle, unencumbered breathing emanating from it filled his ears with music. _

_Gaius quickly sat up, bringing Jacob up with him. He overcame his trepidation to look into the face that was half concealed with lank, wet hair. With a trembling hand, he pushed it back __–__ and was nearly overcome with shock to see the open blue eyes and the lips that curved upwards in a weak smile. _

"_Gaius,__"__ Jacob breathed softly. __"__You brought me back.__"__ His smile increased. __"__You brought me back,__"__ he repeated in wonder. _

"_I will always bring you back if you have need of it,__"__ Gaius solemnly promised, too overcome with relief to say much more. _

_The witnesses standing over the two drew back, their eyes wide with uncertainty and fear at what they were seeing, for the body they had seen Gaius clutching so hopelessly had surely been an empty vessel, devoid of spirit. _

_And now it was not. Jacob__'__s spirit had miraculously returned to his body, and he no longer even appeared deathly ill. Naomi shoved her way through the crowd, dropping to her knees alongside the men. She looked from Jacob to Gaius and back again as if unable to comprehend what she was seeing. Finally, she cried, __"__It__'__s true! He__'__s alive!__"__ Tears of joy ran down her face as she hugged both Jacob, the son of her body, and Gaius, the son of her heart._

_Aaron stepped forward, intending to verify the claim for himself. He knelt down next to Naomi and looked with complete amazement at his nephew and Gaius. He touched Jacob__'__s face and felt no fever, only normal warmth. Indeed, the young man was alive and apparently fever-free. _

_Aaron turned his attention to Gaius. __"__Are you all right?__"_

"_Yes, Aaron, I am well. Now help me place Jacob back into bed. He needs to rest comfortably.__"__ Gaius rose shakily to his feet, and Aaron hastened to assist in lifting Jacob from the floor and getting him back into the bed. _

_After the young man was settled back in bed, Aaron shooed the servants out. Samuel and Rachel, however, still stood clutching each other in confusion and some amount of fear at the strange turn of events. When Jacob saw them standing there, too afraid to approach, he smiled and gestured gently for them to come forward. __"__It__'__s all right. You need not be afraid of me or of Gaius,__"__ he assured his young cousins. _

"_But you were dead. We saw you,__"__ Samuel said, still shaken by that former reality._

_A shadow of sorrow passed over Jacob__'__s face and then was gone. __"__I know. I am sorry I made you so afraid,__"__ he whispered, __"__but I__'__ve been given another chance. That is a miracle I hope you can accept.__"_

_Rachel looked shyly over at Gaius who was sitting on the edge of the bed. __"__Is he your miracle, Jacob?__"_

_Jacob smiled tiredly. __"__Yes, he is, Rachel. That is exactly what he is.__"__ Jacob__'__s eyes slid closed and he was instantly asleep._

_Aaron, who was watching and listening, gave a wide yawn. Tendrils of dawn were creeping across the sky, edging out the night. __"__Come, Rachel, Samuel, it is time that we return to our own beds.__"__ Aaron gave a questioning look to Naomi. _

_Naomi checked and rechecked Jacob__'__s rapidly healing back and stab wound. There was no sign of infection, and Jacob__'__s skin was cool to her touch. She satisfied herself that Jacob was truly healing and then she too followed her brother out of the door. When she looked back for a final glimpse, she saw that Gaius and Jacob were reclining side by side, and that both men were deeply asleep._

**Shaw Emergency & Trauma Center**

**Christmas Day, 3:00pm **

Blair's eyes slid guiltily away from the sight of the Christmas tree and Menorah on his bedside table. He sighed. "This really sucks, Jim. I ruined our holiday plans- "

Amused, Jim interrupted, "You think that getting my best friend back alive and reasonably well on Christmas Day is a ruined holiday?"

Blair looked suddenly shy. "No. I didn't mean it that way. Umm… I'm really your best friend, huh?"

"You drew the short end of the stick, Chief." Jim turned serious. "Listen, Blair, there'll be other holidays. Besides, I received gifts that no amount of money will ever buy."

"Such as?" Blair's inquisitive nature drew him away from his introspection.

"Simon, for one." Jim stood up, walked towards the window and gazed out. "He was like a rock. He stuck with me, helped me keep my head together." Jim turned around to face Blair. "You wouldn't believe the connections that man has. He called in a mark and got a chopper to bring us up here."

"Wow!" Blair was impressed.

"You know, Chief, ever since I've known him, Simon's always been someone I've respected. Then he became my boss and I liked and respected him. I enjoyed working for him. I just never knew before that he was really also my friend. Do you know what I mean?"

Before Blair could respond, the door swung open and Simon, an unlit cigar in his mouth, entered the room. "Who's really your friend?"

Jim immediately clammed up. Blair jumped in smoothly. "Apparently, you are Simon. Thank you for what you did – for both of us."

"No problem, Sandburg. I get that it's a package deal." Simon crossed the room and sat down. "Blair, how do you feel about doing an interview? The press is buzzing around like vultures

trying to get the lead on this story. If you feel like talking about what happened, we can get a handle on things by choosing who gets to interview you and when. It's entirely up to you."

Simon spoke the words sincerely enough, but in truth, he was just as eager to hear the story as the press he was trying to warn Blair about.

Blair wasn't ready to talk about Emily yet, but he knew there were too many people, from the State Patrol to Emily's husband, not to mention Jim and Simon, who needed to know and were waiting for his account of what happened from his own lips.

Sandburg mulled it over briefly, then he came to a decision. "I'd like to get this over with. The sooner, the better. Simon, can you bring up one of those reporters now?"

Jim frowned. His Blessed Protector instincts flared. "You sure you feel up to this?"

"I'm sure, Jim."

"Be right back." Simon quickly got up and left the room. Some fifteen minutes later he came back with a pretty, young female reporter. "This is Sandra Cox, and she's a reporter from The Spokane Herald."

"Hello," Blair greeted her nervously.

"Hi, Blair. Is it all right if I call you Blair?" Sandra smiled a warm, friendly smile that put Blair immediately at ease.

"That's fine," he replied.

Sandra proceeded to set up her tape recorder and when she'd finished, she took the leather seat where Simon had previously sat. "Anytime you're ready, Blair."

Blair took a deep breath. "I had had a wonderful time visiting with Naomi at the retreat in Montana. Naomi's my mom," Blair clarified for Sandra. "When I left Christmas Eve morning, I thought I was going to be home in a few hours." He paused. "I really wanted to get home," Blair added softy. "I drove for a while, and I was almost out of Idaho when I stopped at this place called Trucker Mike's for a cup of coffee. I sat down and immediately I noticed the loud, rough-necked crowd of truckers gathered across the diner. They were laughing and whistling – they sounded drunk, you know? Anyway, I heard a woman's voice, and she was crying and begging them to let her go. But the men wouldn't let her go, so I went over.

"There was this woman in the middle of this group of drunk, foul-mouthed truckers. They were laughing and saying lewd things. I couldn't believe my eyes. She looked so scared and like she was gonna have a baby any day. I just got so angry. I had to do something." Blair looked over at Jim. "I grabbed her arm, man, and took her out to my car and we drove off."

Blair suddenly became very interested in the edge of his blanket as he worried it with his one good hand. "Maybe if I hadn't done that, Emily would still be alive, " he muttered.

"Don't go there, Chief. You did what any one of us would have done had we been there."

Blair drew strength from his Sentinel's sincere expression as he continued the tale. "We got to know each other. She told me about her life with her husband, Ed, in Cascade. She explained how her car broke down and how she had asked for help from the truckers. Instead, they started harassing her. She wanted to pay me for giving her a ride home."

Blair shook his head incredulously and fell silent.

"What happened next?" Simon prompted.

"There was no warning. We got caught in a rockslide." Blair closed his eyes. "There was this burning tanker truck sliding across the road like a missile. It was headed straight toward us." The young man broke out in a sweat, and Jim moved over and put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "I'll never forget that as long as I live." Sandburg opened eyes that reflected how haunted he was by the memory. "Emily was screaming, but I didn't have any choice," he whispered brokenly. "I couldn't stop in time. It was either leave the road, or die burning in a fire."

"I can't even imagine how terrible that must have been for you," Sandra remarked sympathetically.

"It was bad. I remember the car flying through the air, but that's it. I woke up and we were upside down in what was left of the car. I was hurt, but it was nothing compared to Emily's injuries." Blair choked then and he started to stutter as the vision of the broken, twisted woman arose in his mind with gruesome clarity. "Th – Th - There was so much blood and sh - she was in s - so much pain. She went into labor," he gasped out painfully. A tear seeped from his eye and he brushed it away angrily.

"I think that's enough, Chief." Jim intervened.

"N - no, Jim. I w - want to finish this." The distraught young man took a cleansing breath that seemed to steady his nerves. "I'm good. I helped deliver Emily's baby girl, but let me tell you," his voice vehement, "she did all the work with sheer force of will and more courage then I've ever seen in a person."

"Chief, you said before that the baby's name is Noel?"

"Yes." The haunted look left Blair's face and he looked serene. "It was the last thing Emily ever did. With her dying breath, she named her baby, Noel." Blair suddenly sat up, looking distressed. "Jim, what about Ed? He doesn't know that Emily named their daughter Noel!"

Jim looked over Blair's head in silent communication with his boss. Simon nodded. "Don't worry about it, Sandburg, I'll make sure he knows. It will be my first stop before I even go home. "

Blair breathed a sigh of relief. If Simon said he would do something, it was as good as done.

"Speaking of going home, I've got a ride arranged back to Cascade, so I have to be leaving now." Simon put on his coat and prepared to leave. "Good luck with the surgery tomorrow, Sandburg. I'm sure Jim will call me to let me know how things go."

Blair looked gratefully at the captain. "Thanks again, Simon. For everything."

After a nod and an admonishment from Jim to be careful on his way back, the Major Crime captain took off.

Sandra remained for a few minutes more, asking a few follow-up questions. Once she was satisfied that she'd gotten enough to tell the story, she packed up her equipment, thanked Blair, and then she too left.

Now only Jim remained in the room with Blair. For a time, there was a comfortable silence between the two friends until Blair spoke up quietly. "Everyone says I'm a hero, Jim. But I know the real truth."

"What are you talking about, buddy?" Jim gently inquired.

"Noel and I would have both died out there if you hadn't come looking for me."

"Hey, don't forget Simon."

"I'm not." Blair shook his head. "I'm just saying, I know you, and I know how things must have gone down. I don't know what you said, but you convinced Simon that I needed help. You knew I wouldn't just change our plans and not show up," he added softly.

"There was a time when I didn't always know that, Chief," Jim admitted regretfully.

"It's hard to completely break free of those fear-based responses," Blair responded with compassion that was born from an understanding of his Sentinel.

"I suppose, but I've learned my lesson, Chief. I trust you, and nothing's gonna change that." It was more than an optimistic promise from Jim to Blair. It was a promise from the Sentinel to his Guide, and only time would tell what would become of it.

**It's always nice to hear from folks who are reading and enjoying one's story. **


	17. Chapter 17

**Thank you most sincerely for the kind reviews! Now let us see how the tale ends…**

_**Ira**_

_The days of Jacob__'__s recovery flew by quickly. Once the deepest lacerations and the stab-wound in Jacob__'__s back had completely healed, the young man had insisted on regaining his emotional health and strength by spending long hours in solitary mediation. Upon his insistence, and much time spent persuading his reluctant Zakif, he went away alone to a quiet place outside of the inn. _

_Jacob needed time to think and prepare himself for what he knew he must do: return to Jerusalem and take his rightful place alongside his Zakif. Jacob knew that it would not be an easy time for Gaius. His Zakif was determined to embark on a perilous quest to let those in authority over him know the truth as to Drufus__'__ acts of cowardice and treachery. He wanted to clear his name of any charge of desertion that may have been levied against him. Above all, Gaius wanted to set right, once and for all, his fractured relationship with his father. _

_Therefore, he needed to be strong for Gaius, to watch his back and help him to realize fully the power of his extraordinary gifts. Beyond that, Jacob could not predict what the future would hold for them._

_As for Gaius, he uncharacteristically fretted and was ill at ease the first day that his Madreech left to spend time alone for an undetermined length of time. There was some part of him that still clung to the stubborn, residual dregs of guilt leftover from the belief that his failure to protect Jacob had led to the young man suffering such a painful death. _

_On the second day, Naomi took pity on the son of her heart, and she took him up on the roof. There, she spent hours instructing him on the art of meditation. She also often tried to get him to speak of what had transpired when he walked in the spirit plane, but her efforts were in vain, for Gaius refused to speak of it. _

_Days later Jacob returned to the inn, fit and at peace. He and Gaius made ready to leave Ira. The following day, Jacob and Gaius stood in the courtyard. They both wore sturdy traveling clothes, and their horses had been made ready for the journey back to Jerusalem. Naomi, Aaron, Aaron__'__s children and mother-in-law, as well as the many servants who worked and lived there had gathered outside to say farewell and render a benediction. _

_The children, Jacob__'__s beloved charges, were crying_. _They ran to him and one by one, Jacob hugged and kissed them. __"__Remember your lessons. Your father will find a new teacher for you. You must learn your new lessons as well so that I will have no need to be ashamed that I was your teacher, should I ever return,__"__ he teased._

"_Please don__'__t go, Jacob,__" Rachel pleaded with quiet dignity. _

_Jacob hugged the girl again. __"__I have to. All change is not evil, only different.__"__ Jacob__'__s words of comfort seemed to have an effect on the young girl. She released her cousin and stood quietly to the side._

_Jacob moved to his uncle next. He kissed the portly man on both round cheeks. __"__Shalom, Uncle. I can never repay you for the protection and care you gave me these last years. May you always be blessed.__"_

_Aaron surreptitiously wiped his eyes, then he returned kisses to Jacob__'__s cheeks and hugged him close. __"__Shalom. I love you as though you were my son. Take care always.__"_

_Jacob faced his mother last, and his heart nearly broke for the sorrow he saw on her face, knowing that he was the cause of it. Naomi had been determined to see that Jacob and Gaius had all they needed for the journey. She had packed all manner of medicines, herbs, clothes and foodstuffs. She had given Jacob of her material possessions, but nothing of her verbal approval._

_Jacob kissed his mother and bowed his head to receive her blessing. He waited patiently. But instead of hearing a blessing, Naomi asked a question. __"__Have you all that you need, my son?__"_

"_I lack only your blessing and leave to go.__"_

_Naomi clasped Jacob tightly to her, then she released him. __"__You have it, Jacob.__"_

_Naomi turned to Gaius. __"__Bow your head, son of my heart.__"__ Uncertain, Gaius did as he was bid. __"__May you find joy in the gifts you were born with. May you treasure and protect always, the one you were given.__"__ Naomi__'__s eyes were both kind and firm._

_Gaius received Naomi__'__s blessing and the message. He kissed her lightly on her cheek, and then he and Jacob mounted their horses. _

_Side by side, the two rode slowly away. _

**Shaw Emergency & Trauma Center**

**December 27**

The surgery on Blair's leg had been performed the afternoon the day before, without incident. After a brief time in recovery, a sleeping Blair had been returned to his room where Jim had been waiting for him. Now Jim found himself waiting once again for his roommate to wake up from his nap. Blair still tired easily and spent a great deal of time sleeping. Jim understood that, but he moved about the room anyway, impatient to show Blair the surprise he and Simon had arranged for him.

As if he'd heard his thoughts, Sandburg began to stir. His eyes blinked open and he groaned when he saw Jim. "Man, I feel like I've been on a really long journey."

"Well, you were, Chief. You almost died," Jim replied somberly.

"I know, but…" Blair hesitated, uncertain.

Jim came closer. "What is it?"

"It's just that when I was dying out in that snow, I had the strangest sense that I was somewhere else. In another place and time." Blair shook his head and then immediately regretted it due to his still sore neck. "Check this out, man, you were there, but you were different – like some kind of Roman soldier or something. And there was a man, a woman and a baby..." Once more Sandburg's voice trailed off and he looked confused as only fragmented bits teased the edges of his memory, refusing to coalesce into a cohesive picture.

"Chief," Jim began diplomatically. "When a person is as close to death as you were and lives to tell about the experience, it's not unusual for them to remember seeing and hearing all kinds of strange things."

"I guess so, Jim." Blair said no more, suddenly reluctant to discuss the matter further, especially when he really wasn't sure exactly what he was recalling.

Suddenly, someone standing in the doorway, holding a baby in his arms, cleared his throat and gave a tentative sounding knock against the doorframe. "I heard that there's a hero in this room. My baby girl said we should come and say hello – and thank you."

Jim looked enormously pleased, as Blair looked up, surprised.

Edward Joseph Kojack was standing in the doorway looking down at Noel with adoring father's eyes as he tenderly held the peacefully sleeping infant in his arms. Then Ed looked directly at Blair, and Sandburg gave a slight gasp as if he'd been hit by a bolt of lightning. He stared openly at Ed Kojack. He could not help himself. From the moment the man had stepped into his hospital room, he was struck by a powerful sense of dejà vu. For a moment, it looked as though the man wore robes and was holding a piece of wood carving in his hand. The sight of this dark-haired, dark-eyed man standing there with a baby in his arms looked so familiar. It was as though he had not only seen him before, but knew him. Blair searched his memory, but being unable to put the pieces together, he came up blank.

"Chief, you okay?" Jim asked, concerned.

"Hey, I can come back later if you'd like," Ed hastily added as he looked around, taking notice of the small, cheerful-looking Christmas tree and the beautiful, smaller-size Menorah on top of the bedside table.

"No! No way." Blair composed himself and with a grin, gestured for the father to come closer with Noel.

Jim relaxed. The Sentinel was looking at his Guide, still unwilling to let the other man out of his sight. There was an oddly bittersweet look of longing on Blair's expressive face, which the observant Jim could not attribute to Blair being surprised by the sudden appearance of the visitors. Intent on discerning the meanings later, Ellison mentally filed that look away, as well as his best friend's reaction upon seeing Ed and Noel.

Ed approached Blair's bedside and after glancing at the Menorah again, he gently placed Noel in Blair's arms. "L'Chaim," the new father said softly.

Pleased and surprised to hear the familiar Hebrew toast, Blair's gaze never left Noel's sleeping face. With one hand, he grasped Jim's hand, which the other man had placed on his shoulder. With a smile on his face, and joy in his heart, Blair Sandburg replied, "To life."

**Epilogue**

_Having tested the quality of friendship between the Sentinel and Guide, it pleased Fate to retrieve the dice, which she had thrown. All to play another day. _

_Finis_

**Dear reviewers, we have reached the end of the tale. Thank you so much for going along on Blair's very long journey. My sincerest thank you's to each one of you (and you know who you are) for reading and commenting. May the kindness be returned to you ten-fold! If I did not mention it, all illustrations for this story can be found at my website url posted under my profile. **

**Lastly, this news may please some and not others, but for those interested, there is a sequel story in the works - just be advised that it is slash. **


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